The Adventures of Harriet Potter: Year 4
by kleinnak
Summary: Sirius is on trial. A mysterious group gathers to discuss dark omens. A breakthrough in the magical world has just been discovered. Surely nothing can go wrong in the summer leading up to Harriet Potter's fourth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!
1. Dark and Light

**Chapter 1**

**Dark and Light**

* * *

><p>"The higher up the chain of command one goes in a time of conflict, the greyer and greyer reality becomes."<p>

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

* * *

><p>The leaves shivered high in the moonlit branches. The sound was chilling, as though even the trees were aware of the grim purpose of the events taking place below. The moon hung full over the ring of polished stone arches that circled the clearing and the twenty-one stone chairs in the centre. A flash of lightning from the approaching storm lit the scene. As if on command, twenty one figures appeared in one of the arches. The figures wore black, hooded cloaks, their features indistinguishable as the light faded once more and thunder shook the canopy.<p>

The figures strode forward and sat in unison. They each raised a hand towards a large stone basin in the centre. The hands were the only parts of the figures visible beyond the cloaks and hoods, and all but three had milk-white skin. Of the three, two had skin as dark chocolate, and another of sandy complexion. A jet of red sparks shot from each hand and they collided in the basin. Despite no apparent fuel, a blazing fire rose in the basin, providing a steadier source of light than before. At the same time, all the sounds of the approaching storm vanished.

The first of the twenty-one stood, his cloak wavering behind him, his feet peeking out from under the hem. His body was erect, but short of stature, no more than five and a half feet tall. Yet, despite his diminutive stature compared to the others, an air of silence fell over the twenty other figures.

"So, Lord Ivan, what can be so important that you summoned us all back here so soon?" asked a tall woman, who sat straight-backed in her seat.

A hint of raven hair could be seen from under the hood. Her accent was thick and hinted at a Mediterranean heritage.

"Yes," replied another. This one was male. A hulking form under his cloak, he was powerfully built with broad shoulders so wide that another head could be set upon each with room to spare. "It has only been three months."

"It is important, Lady Houda, Lord Aslan," Ivan replied, shifting his weight from foot to foot. His voice was deep and gruff with great age, and thickly Slavic. A thick, bushy goatee could just be seen protruding from the hood in the glowing light of the fire. "Lord Darius and Lord Ayumu have notified me of ill portents which indicate this thirteen years of peace is swiftly coming to an end."

"And what makes you so sure of that, Lord Ivan?" spoke up another of the figures. This one had a haughty voice, Scandinavian and smooth.

"The centaurs confirm it, Lord Bashkim," the thin figure that was Darius replied.

"You have gotten more cooperation out of them than my agents then, Lord Darius," said another. This one's voice was even deeper than Ivan's, cracked and hoarse.

"It is not just the centaurs," spoke a sixth, the one named Ayumu. "The fey tell similar tales of their visions." This one's accent was much different than the others, his words clipped and short, and his voice breathy.

"They do, do they, Lord Ayumu?" Bashkim asked, sounding sceptical.

"You can doubt all you want, Lord Bashkim, but the signs are true," Ayumu retorted.

"I share Lord Bashkim's reservations," spoke another figure, another woman this time. "Though perhaps not his disdain. How can you be sure these signs do not coincide with other conflicts already in motion?"

Darius rose. "Yes. The centaurs report Mars is the brightest they've ever seen it. Conflict is clearly coming. Though as to how soon, where, and how it will break out, that of course cannot be said," he paused, "but I have my suspicions."

"As opposed to the war the Americans now wage with one another?" Bashkim asked.

"I asked the centaurs about that, of course," Darius replied. "But they insist this is something new. I think it is time we face the fact that it probably means the return of the Nameless One."

An angry bout of hissing passed about the group at the term 'Nameless One.'

Ivan added, "And the fey cross-confirm, you say, Lord Ayumu?"

"Hai," said Ayumu. "That was the grave news I came to bring. The fey see visions of his return. A white figure rising from smoke, blood, and darkness."

"'A white figure?'" Bashkim asked. "Perhaps they foretell our own rise back to dominance?"

"Sacrilege," hissed one of the women.

"Peace, Lady Julia," Ivan said. "I'm sure Lord Bashkim was speaking only in jest." The tone of his voice made it clear he was making a suggestion to Bashkim, not an observation.

"Yes, of course, Lord Ivan," Bashkim said grudgingly.

"I believe there is something to what Lord Darius and Lord Ayumu are saying," said another of the women. "I bring dark portents as well."

"More, Lady Janna?" Ivan asked, concerned. "Why did you not report of this at once?"

"I only just learned of it before setting out to travel here," Janna replied. "My contingent of Horsemen report the usual signs of the Nameless One's activity in Albania has ceased."

"Ceased?" asked another of the male figures.

"Yes," Janna said. "It is just as the incident when he escaped with the one known as Quirrell."

The figures fell silent at this. Despite being cloaked and hooded, every figure seemed tense and worried.

"That… that is troubling indeed…" Darius said, beginning to pace.

"What is on your mind, Lord Darius?" Ivan asked.

"A member of the Wizarding government of Great Britain has also gone missing," he said. "I had not thought much of it, but she was last seen in Albania, near the forest the Dark Lord has been rumoured to hide."

"Missing?" asked another of the dark-skinned figures. "Who?"

"Her name is Bertha Jorkins," Darius replied.

"Jorkins, I do not recognize that name," spoke another, even deeper voiced figure. He was tall and willowy, his accent deeply Russian.

"She's no one of great importance to the British ministry," Darius said. "She's so unimportant, in fact, that no one has even gone to look for her from what my sources tell me."

"And what makes this disappearance so suspicious then?" another figure asked. "If the British Ministry does not even see fit to hunt for its own missing. And if it is so, how can we be sure it is the Nameless One who is behind it?"

"Is Jorkins the sort who would consent to his possession, as the fool Quirrell was?" Ivan asked.

"No," Darius said. "By all counts my horsemen report that she occupies a minor position in the British Ministry, and has never had any inclinations towards the Dark Arts whatsoever. In fact, she used to work under Crouch."

At the name Crouch a collective wave of agitated hisses rose.

"No great loss then," the other dark-skinned figure growled.

"Now, now, Lord Yong. Not everyone gets to choose their superiors."

The figures spun and pointed their hands at the source of the new voice. Unlike the figures in the clearing, the newcomer was not hooded. Instead, he wore a perfectly clean and pressed black suit. He was a middle-aged man with blonde hair that had mostly gone to grey and a neatly trimmed beard. He had sharp blue eyes that studied each figure in the circle without a trace of fear.

"Morrisey…" Darius said, lowering his hand first.

At once, all the others lowered their hands as well. Professor Johnathan Morrisey's confident smile grew as he strode into the clearing.

"I see you still disdain wearing traditional garb," Bashkim said taking in Professor Morrisey's suit.

"I will say one thing for Muggles," Professor Morrisey said, unabashed. "They have an excellent sense of propriety and dignity in their higher fashions. I always found robes a particularly lazy form of dress, just draping cloth over one's self. Now a suit; that is the mark of one who takes pride in their appearance."

"What brings you here, Morrisey?" Ivan asked. By the sound of it, he trusted Professor Morrisey no more than the others did.

Professor Morrisey's smile didn't falter. "Well, as it so happens, I am here on my own business tonight."

"Is that so?" Ivan asked, his ancient eyes narrowed.

"It is," Professor Morrisey said. He surveyed the group. "Goodness, what dark tidings must be passing around if even here you won't remove your hoods."

The group all exchanged looks and as one finally removed their hoods. Again with the exception of Yong, the other dark-skinned figure who was named Altan, and the sandy-skinned one, named Rashid, all the figures' skin were milky white. To a casual observer, they would all look quite human. However, on closer inspection, they seemed as though they had been sculpted in the image of humans but with deliberate alterations.

Their eyes were large, and glinted prominently in the flickering firelight. Their brows were more prominent, and their jaws seemed larger than normal. Their lips were wider, and their faces longer. There were other recognizable traits that spoke to their close relation to humanity. The one named Ayumu bore a strong resemblance to Japanese humans, while Rashid a markedly middle-eastern appearance, and of course Altan and Yong who were unmistakably African.

"Ah, some new faces I see," Professor Morrisey said. "I take it some covens had elections recently?"

Ivan sniffed. "Yes," he gestured around. "I suppose for the sake of politeness there should be introductions. Professor Morrisey, may I introduce you to our newest members of the High Council, Lady Sigrid of Finland, and Lord Nickolai of Russia."

Professor Morrisey bowed to each face in turn.

"Lord Nickolai, Lady Sigrid," Ivan went on. "This is Professor Johnathan Morrisey, a prominent thinker in the Wizarding world and occasional professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Ivan turned back to Professor Morrisey and bent a very sceptical eye on him. "So, as we have asked, why are you here, Morrisey? I assume it is to bring news."

"Yes," Morrisey said. "I come before the High Council to inform you all that your concerns are not exclusively yours, particularly in the area of Jorkins' disappearance."

"The Ministry is finally going to take care of its unfinished business then, is it?" asked Visvaldis. He was balding on top with snow-white hair and beard.

"Alas, not," Morrisey said. "But Albus does share your concern over the _Nameless One's _return. Not a fortnight ago, a former servant of the Nameless One's who had been in hiding, under our very nose, was revealed but escaped. A seer foretold he would return to his master and return him to power."

"More prophecies…" Bashkim grumbled. As he did so his teeth flashed. They were pure white, and the canines, while not excessive, were much more prominent than a normal human's, and the incisors between them were straight, even, and pointed.

"Yes, unfortunately, we have a strong reason to believe this time the prophecy is one to take very seriously," Morrisey replied. "The last time this particular seer made a confirmed prophecy, she foresaw the fall of the Nameless One."

"I see…" Ivan answered, his brows knit in thought. "That is certainly something we must take into consideration. But why have you come alone? Why has neither Albus nor the Ambassador come to us?"

"Oh they're quite busy enough with their own matters," Professor Morrisey said. "Wrapped up in trifling distractions. I, however, am not so naïve."

"No, none would accuse you of such a failing," said Murad, the deepest voiced and tallest of the figures with a flowing white beard and hair to rival Albus Dumbledore's.

"You flatter me. No… I believe that if he does make it back to Britain, as the prophecy tells, we will need all the help we can request. And so I have come to ask that more Horsemen be brought to Britain just in case. I would much prefer to crush the basilisk as an egg than to allow it to grow to a monster."

"We do not follow the orders of your kind," hissed another female figure, her eyes burning.

"Yes, of course," Professor Morrisey said, bowing. "I meant no disrespect, Lady Cadence. I am here to request only."

"If the Nameless One returns to Britain, my Horsemen will hunt for him," Darius said, confidently.

"I am pleased to hear it, Lord Darius," Professor Morrisey said.

Darius' old eyes narrowed. "However, I in turn have another concern I had hoped to bring to the Council's attention, which makes it a very coincidental you are here, Morrisey."

"Is that so?" Professor Morrisey asked.

"What matter is this?" Ivan demanded.

Darius did not take his eyes off of Professor Morrisey. "Whilst visiting the centaurs in the forests around Hogwarts, I happened into the town of Hogsmeade. And that is where I saw the boy in the Hog's Head tavern… he's unmistakable, the spitting image of his father and grandfather."

Professor Morrisey raised his eyebrows. "By chance you are referring to young Master Stevens?"

"Yes, precisely."

"What of this boy, Darius?" Ayumu asked.

"He is another we have feared for some time," Darius said.

The figures hissed again. Rashid rose from his chair, his sandy skin paling.

"You don't mean…"

"I am afraid I do, my friend," Darius said. "I have discovered the offspring of the Split Man."

"Feared?" Professor Morrisey asked. "He's just a boy, he's not even magical. What about him could possibly scare _you_, Lord Rashid? You fought in the _Crusades_," he went on, sounding genuinely puzzled.

"If Lord Darius is correct, that's not a boy," Rashid hissed through his pointed teeth. "That's an abomination."

Professor Morrisey raised his eyebrows, clearly quite interested.

"A product of the unnatural arts of the last dark lord before the Nameless One…"

"Grindelwald? I see… interesting that Albus never mentioned this…" Professor Morrisey said, stroking his beard. "But I've known the boy for years myself. I recall his being brought to Hogsmeade as an infant. I was sure there was something fishy about the boy's story but as he grew he gave no indication of being anything other than an ordinary squib."

Darius' eyes narrowed. "The boy is not the direct product of Grindelwald and his minions' perversions of nature…" he paused looking at Professor Morrisey darkly. "Nor is he a squib… but the boy's grandfather was turned into a monster at their hands, and his father succumbed to the same fate. Whatever Grindelwald and his minions did, it did not die out with the original; it was passed on to his offspring. The boy is nearing the age his father was when he turned. It was we who put down his grandfather, and his father eluded a contingent of wolves and minotaurs for two years before a faun assassin managed to put a cursed arrow in him."

"And his father was not as strong as the original article," Ivan said, slumping into his chair.

"But if his father was not as strong as his grandfather, what's the surety that the boy will be anything like them? It is an admittedly small sample-size, but it sounds as if it declines in power with each successive generation."

"That is a risk I, as head of the coven of Great Britain, am unwilling to take. I will note that it seems even Professor Dumbledore is still addressing the risk," Darius said. "And I am most displeased that he thought to hide this pending terror rather than turn it over to we who could deal with it properly."

"Ahhh, so you think that is why he is keeping Aurochius and his merry band about? I see... I see…" Professor Morrisey said, his eyes narrowed with interest. "Tell me more…"

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, thousands of miles away, another storm was brewing. It was the beginning of the rainy season on the Serengeti. Lightning flickered in the distance, steadily getting closer. However, the man sitting under the thin, invisible tent of demiguise hair paid it no mind.<p>

First of all, he was far too enraptured with the spectacle unfolding before him. Second of all, he could not hear the thunder getting louder through the magical earmuffs he was wearing to block out the sound of the fwoopers calling from the nearby Salvadora tree. He found the fwoopers amusing creatures to observe in their natural habitat, but did not relish the thought of the inevitable madness that came as a result of listening to their songs.

But he wasn't here for the fwoopers. He was here because of the nearby herd of erumpents.

"Nick Sutler: biologist. Notes for Saturday, the 18th of July, Nineteen Ninety Four," the man dictated, whispering to a self-writing quill which danced across a sheet of parchment, writing down his words. "Have set up an observation post near the herd."

Sutler grunted as he pulled out his trusty, well-worn pair of omnioculars and began to survey the herd.

"At present, looks as though the coming of the rain has the erumpents on edge. They could sense something I don't yet, will continue observation."

Erumpents, as their smaller, non-magical cousin the rhinoceros, had poor eye-sight. The thick rain would hamper this even further, and would cover the sound of approaching predators. This was putting the erumpents on edge, and even more so because they were with calves. He could see the cows crowding around the young calves, pushing them to the middle of the herd.

Sutler grinned in almost indecent anticipation. This was what he had been waiting all his life to see. There was only a handful of predators in the entire world that could put erumpents so on edge. One was dragons. The other was the massive, and even more deadly nundu; the monstrous, poison-breathed leopard.

Sutler began to scan the rest of the waving grass now. The storm was nearing, the wind and rain whipping the tall grass around. He was sure the massive cat would not be too difficult to spot, even in the storm.

It was known that nundu fed on erumpents. Plenty of erumpent carcasses had been found which showed clear signs of nundu predation, and likewise dead nundu had been found bearing the hallmarks of being stabbed by erumpents' massive, spiralling horns and blown up by the volatile fluid that the erumpents injected into their targets.

Yet no one had ever actually witnessed the event of a nundu hunting erumpents first hand. Now, by the looks of it, he just might be the first.

"Erumpents getting more anxious," he said to the quill. "Keeping lookout for nundu—wait!"

He leaned forward, his hands gripping tighter on the omnioculars. There it was. It was unmistakable; a massive, slow-moving mound of sage-coloured fur with black spots. The nundu was moving as close to the ground as it could. The colours would easily confuse the near-sighted erumpent.

Sutler checked the wind. The nundu was moving on the erumpents from downwind, typical hunting behaviour amongst its smaller big-cat cousins to hide its scent. However, that would be a disadvantage in using the nundu's most potent weapon, its poisonous breath, which was the most widely accepted method of how the nundu went about catching erumpents.

Sutler however did not buy the hypothesis. Most erumpents found bearing the marks of nundu predation were single-kills. The nundu's breath was not specialized enough to target single individuals, and so far no one had found collections of erumpents dead from poisoning. Sutler's hypothesis was that the poison breath was an adaptation for defence of nundu cubs rather than an adaptation to aid in hunting.

Even more frustrating to Sutler was the magical world's lack of interest in the possibilities. The last person to give any study to African magical fauna had been Newt Scamander, and he had been retired for decades. However, since the rise and fall of You-Know-Who, the magical world at large seemed to have lost interest in the world. It was as if You-Know-Who and his followers had sucked all the joy out of the world, all the sense of wonder and splendour.

But not so for Nick Sutler. No, he wasn't going to give up discovering the world. Not when there was still so much left to see. He'd been fascinated with animals since he was a little boy, always wanting to be a biologist, studying life. After he learned to read as a child, he read every book on animals he could get his hands on. Then, he got his letter from Hogwarts, telling him that he was a wizard. And thus, an entirely new world of discovery was open to Sutler that was there to explore and study.

The erumpents were still shifting around but seemed unaware of the nundu's approach. Sutler's grin grew. This was it, it was going to happen. The nundu moved closer and closer still. Sutler hit record on the omnioculars. There was no chance he was going to miss this event for the world.

The nundu sprang into action. It moved across the open terrain with astounding speed for a creature so large. Just then, one of the erumpents spotted it and lifted its head in a bellow of warning. At once, the herd rounded in the direction of the attack and the nundu turned away to disappear (at least from the erumpents) once more, stalking around to another angle.

"Clever, clever," Sutler muttered. The nundu had given up the attack so quickly that Sutler was sure that it was a feint. It was distracting the erumpents before moving around to launch another attack from another angle. Sutler's knees were bouncing unconsciously as he watched, he was completely engrossed in the spectacle before him, paying no attention to the storm raging overhead.

Just then there was a flash of light followed by a concussive force that he felt through the ground and his stool. The lightning strike was so close that it spooked the erumpents who scattered. To Sutler's horror, the nundu gave chase after some of the fleeing erumpents, over a ridge and out of sight.

"No, no, no, no-no-no-no-NO!" Sutler shouted getting to his feet and throwing his magical earmuffs to the ground, knocking over his tent in his rage.

"It's just a bit of lightning! It's just lightning! You put up with it every summer you bastards!" he roared over the sound of the storm.

He sighed as his anger faded and disappointment set in. He'd spent two months here, stalking the wilds, waiting for his moment. And there it went, gone in a single atmospheric discharge. Who knew when he would get that chance again?

He grumbled as he started to pack up his gear. He was completely soaked from the rain already when something flickered in the corner of his eye. It was coming from the tree that the fwoopers had been singing in. Sutler froze.

There was no longer a tree there. Instead, there was a stump, and a big, floating, pulsating orb of soft light. Sutler stared for a long while, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. He had never seen anything like it in his life. And that was saying something, as a wizard biologist.

He felt a strong sense of reservation, yet his curiosity compelled him to move forward and investigate. He was presented with a mystery, he had to know the truth of what he was encountering. He checked his watch.

"Sixteen-thirteen," he dictated the time to the self-writing quill which was still floating along next to him. The quill continued to write, though the heavy rain was washing away the ink the moment it left the quill.

"I've just seen something…" Sutler fumbled for a word before settling on "amazing…"

He kept moving closer. The orb was mesmerizing, slowly growing and shrinking, while simultaneously rotating lazily as if hanging on an invisible string.

"It's… an orb… of some description," Sutler said to his now quite impotent quill. "It… looks to actually be made, on closer inspection, of shards of… glass, but it's glowing… and giving off a strange sound…"

Now he was only about five feet from the orb. Even over the rain he could hear a low whirring noise that increased and declined in pitch every time the orb grew and shrank again. The orb looked solid, and yet not so. He puzzled as he noted that the rain did not seem to be connecting with the orb at all. Indeed, it seemed to be passing right through it. However, when he looked at the remnants of the tree stump underneath the orb, the wood on the inside was dry.

The orb was absorbing the rain.

Sutler puzzled at the stump, crouched low for a better look. "I wonder…" he muttered and began to look around.

Pieces of broken, splintered wood were everywhere. The force of the lightning strike had blasted the tree apart. Finally, he found what he was looking for. At once, Sutler was saddened at the sight but satisfied that his hypothesis was correct. It was the tiny, lifeless form of an African bowtruckle. It had apparently been killed in the lightning strike. The tree had been a wand-tree.

"I've found the body of an African bowtruckle. Clearly, this was a wand-tree that the lightning hit. Fascinating, I've heard of wand-trees being hit by lightning before, but never heard anyone describe an effect such as this…"

Sutler knew that magic and electricity did not work well together. Magic tended to make even the most mundane electronic items fail.

"This must be the effect of such a powerful force of electricity striking a powerful source of magic," Sutler mused, speaking more to himself now than anything. The quill was now writing in mid-air as the parchment had been obliterated by the rain. "Sort of like the old saying of an unstoppable force meeting and immovable object… it's as if… as if the lightning has been caught into a ball over the tree… as if the magic has contained it here…"

He decided he needed to test the object. He bent and picked up one of the broken limbs of the tree.

"Here goes nothing," he muttered and tossed the limb towards the orb.

He turned away and covered his head. He didn't know what he expected to happen, probably an explosion, but it certainly hadn't been 'nothing at all.' And yet, he didn't hear anything. He turned back. The orb was continuing to pulse lazily. He moved around to the other side of the orb. The branch he'd thrown was gone.

"What the—?" he said, scratching his head through his completely soaked hair.

Sutler picked up another blasted branch. He took a deep breath, and without turning away, tossed this stick at the orb as well. It vanished from sight.

"—devil?" Sutler said, finishing his unfinished sentence.

He puzzled more. Finally, he drew his wand and pointed it at another branch and levitated it. He guided the fallen branch to the orb. He took another breath, and urged the limb forward. He only moved it in halfway this time, and still using his wand drew the limb back.

The limb was completely intact.

"What's going on…?" Sutler said to himself, bemused.

Where had the other two branches gone? Where was the rain going? How could the branch move into the orb, and yet come back out again?

With nothing for it, Sutler took the branch in his hand. He faced the orb, and slowly extended the branch out towards it.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," he kept muttering to himself as he moved the branch closer.

He closed his eyes and braced himself for whatever would happen when the branch touched the orb. But as with his first test, nothing seemed to happen. He was still alive. The only change was an odd tingling sensation in his hands. He opened his eyes again. He was holding the branch into the orb.

"Okay… so I haven't been electrocuted… score one for me," he said and began to draw the branch back out.

Then it happened. Something tugged on the branch.

"Hey," he exclaimed and jumped back.

The branch came back out of the orb and he looked at the end of it. A clump of leaves had been stripped away.

"What in Merlin's name…?" he said and he stuck the branch back into the orb. His curiosity was completely getting the better of him.

He held the branch there and felt more tugs. Mostly gentle but every now and then a firm one. He began to pull the branch back when something grabbed onto it hard and tugged back. The branch slipped from his hands but not before it knocked him off balance and he stumbled forward.

Sutler shouted out and held up his hands but it was too late. He stumbled right into the orb. He felt a strange lifting sensation before thudding with a gasp to the ground. He grunted and spat out hot, dry sand.

He blinked. Sand? He was in the Serengeti.

Sutler lifted up his head and looked around. Above him was a perfectly clear, azure sky. All around him were rolling yellow dunes of sand.

A gravely lowing sound came from above him and Sutler turned and his eyes went even wider. It couldn't be. It just couldn't be. His eyes had to be tricking him.

The creatures were massive. At a glance, they looked to be almost ten-feet long. Their skin was a soft, sandy colour. Their heads were blocky, barely two-feet long, and covered in bony knobs and wide, plate-like cheekbones. Also in the heads were deep set, tiny black eyes. Their backs too were peppered with bony scutes. They were four legged, their legs thick and powerful, sprawled out to their sides. They had tails but these were short, and they wagged back and forth in apparent agitation. The creatures were clearly torn in their appreciation of the branch's leaves.

Sutler didn't move. He couldn't. He was much too mesmerized by what he was looking at. He recognized the creatures, but they couldn't be real. It was impossible.

They were pareiasaurs. He couldn't be sure exactly what species. Fossils did not give very strong indications of how the soft tissues looked over top of the bones. They could be scutosaurs, or maybe pareiasuchus.

Just what this meant hit Sutler like a kick in the gut. Which was then followed by a sharp pain in the gut. He jumped up, startling the pareiasaurs who grunted and growled, backing away. He looked down where the sharp pain had come from. There was an angry squealing noise and a small, beaked face was poking out of a hole in the ground. There were little tusks on either side of the beak. The little creature squealed aggressively, moving further out of the hole, taking little defensive snaps at him with its little beak. In spite of himself, Sutler laughed. This little creature was unmistakable, a diictodon.

Another diictodon emerged and both growled at him. They were both only about a foot long. Then he realized that water was pouring into their hole. Sutler turned and looked behind him. The orb was still there, pulsing slowly. Except this time, instead of absorbing a deluge of rain, it was expelling one. The sand underneath it was soaked with water as rain poured out of the bottom of the orb. And there was the two other branches he'd tossed into it.

Sutler suddenly began to laugh. He didn't know why he found it so funny, but he couldn't help himself. He'd set out to discover the truth about how nundu hunted erumpents, and instead he'd found something else altogether more amazing.

The orb had not only transported him across space, it had transported him across time. Hundreds of millions of years. Sutler looked around in amazement. He became aware that there were in fact dozens of the pareiasaurs around. Many of them were making their way in his direction. The landscape was parched and mostly desert by the looks of it. Undoubtedly they were coming because they smelled the water.

Sutler laughed more and the nearest pareiasaur bellowed in agitation at him as the diictodons scampered off and down another hole a little ways away.

Time.

He had travelled through time.

The orb had taken him so far back that the creatures surrounding him had not even become dinosaurs yet. He was past the Cretaceous, the Jurassic, and Triassic periods. He was in the Permian period; two hundred sixty million years ago.


	2. Back to the Burrow

**Chapter 2**

**Back to the Burrow**

* * *

><p>"Ahh to relive the days of being young and in love with everything you see."<p>

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

* * *

><p>The sun rose on another perfectly ordinary Monday morning on Privet Drive, in Little Whinging, Surrey. Every house was perfectly sized. Every lawn was perfectly mown. Every hedge was perfectly trimmed. Every car was perfectly clean in every perfectly swept driveway. The postman was humming happily to himself as he walked down the street, turning up each driveway and sliding the mail into each mail slot.<p>

Privet Drive was his favourite stretch of his route. He could get into a perfect rhythm; each house equally spaced, each driveway the same length. It was always quiet this time of the morning, which afforded him time to think and contemplate the world.

He kept humming as he turned up the drive to Number Four. He paused as something crunched underfoot. He looked down and blinked as he saw what looked like an electronic device of some sort, smashed into pieces on the driveway pavement. The postman looked up to see one of the home's second story windows had been smashed out.

The postman shook his head and drew out the bundle of envelopes for Number Four. He'd just taken off the rubber-band when something else made him pause. One of the envelopes was completely covered, front and back, in stamps. The only exception was an open square inch on the front, into which the address to Number Four had been written.

"Blimey," the postman said chuckling. "Well someone wanted to be sure this letter got through, didn't they?" he said to himself studying the letter.

There was no return address that he could see. He didn't think too much of it, but this time, instead of just slipping the letter through the slot, he actually rang the doorbell. He smiled, though was taken aback as the door was whipped open and the tall, beefy, moustachioed, and very grumpy looking owner of Number Four, Vernon Dursley, loomed over him.

"Yes?" Mr Dursley asked, clearly in a foul mood.

"Oh, beg pardon, sir," the postman said, lifting his hat an inch in greeting. "Just this letter came for you today," he said handing over the stamp-coated envelope with a laugh. "Any idea who sent it? Not sure where it came from but I think they overdid it just a bit."

Mr Dursley took the letter, staring at it with confusion etched across his own face. "No idea," Mr Dursley growled. Then without another word, Mr Dursley turned and slammed the door shut in the post man's face.

Inside the kitchen of Number Four, Privet Drive, Harriet Potter jumped at the sound of the slamming door. She had just finished her one-sixth of a grapefruit. Her aunt, Petunia, had cut the grapefruit into four pieces, but had a knack for cutting the fruit in such a way that Harriet's piece was much smaller than her rotund cousin, Dudley's.

Harriet had been forced to live with the Dursleys, her only living relatives, since she was only a year old. The Dursleys had always treated Harriet as a burden, for more than just the fact that Harriet had been left on their doorstep as an orphan on Halloween night thirteen years ago.

The Dursleys made it no secret, to Harriet at least, that they thought very poorly of her and 'her kind.' By 'her kind,' the Dursleys meant that Harriet was a witch. As a result, for most of her life, her bedroom had been the cupboard under the stairs, until the outsized, bearded mountain of a man Hagrid came and told Harriet the truth. The truth that the Dursleys had hidden from Harriet her entire life.

The Dursleys had kept that information from Harriet, hoping that by keeping it secret and keeping her as miserable as possible, they would crush the magic out of her. Fortunately for Harriet, they'd failed, and Harriet was now due to begin her fourth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that September.

Beside her, Harriet heard her cousin Dudley's stomach growl angrily. He had been most miserable the whole summer so far, ever since he returned from his school with a bad report. It wasn't the bad marks, or the reports of bullying. The Dursleys always found ways to explain away these accusations. The problem came from the section written by the school nurse.

The Dursleys had always gone above and beyond to make sure that Dudley had everything he wanted. Toys, clothes, electronics, and especially food. While this had gone a long ways to making sure that Dudley was very happy, it also made sure that now, at only fourteen years old, Dudley was almost as wide as he was tall.

Harriet supposed she should feel good that Dudley was finally going to get his weight under control. However, the bullying Dudley had put her through kept her from feeling too glad about it. Indeed, as Dudley now eyed his mother's piece of grapefruit (he had already stolen and eaten his father's), Harriet couldn't help but feel a small bit of smug justice.

After Dudley's tantrum the night before when his parents caught him smuggling doughnuts into his room, which culminated in Dudley throwing his Super Nintendo out his window, Aunt Petunia had decided that the best way to keep up Dudley's morale was first to make sure that everyone else in the family was following the diet. In reality, this meant that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were following Dudley's diet. Harriet on the other hand was following her own version of the diet which consisted of eating even less food than Dudley.

"You," Uncle Vernon barked, coming back into the kitchen and pointing at Harriet. He didn't need to point. There was only one person in the world Uncle Vernon was ever referring to when he said 'you.' "In the living room. Now," Uncle Vernon growled.

Harriet raised her eyebrows but got up to follow Uncle Vernon out of the kitchen and into the living room. He shut the door behind her with a loud snap. He crossed over to the newly installed electric fireplace and rounded on Harriet.

"So!" he said, glaring at Harriet.

Harriet raised her eyebrows. "So?" she asked.

Over the last month, Harriet's attitude had taken a distinct turn. She no longer cowed under Uncle Vernon's wrath. Likewise, Uncle Vernon's said wrath had been toned down considerably. This was a result of Professor Sherrod Howe's informing Uncle Vernon that if Uncle Vernon continued to emotionally abuse Harriet Professor Howe would report him to the authorities, but also because Harriet had informed Uncle Vernon that her godfather, Sirius Black, was a dangerous mass murderer who had escaped from Wizarding prison, and liked to keep in touch with Harriet to make sure she was happy.

Sirius wasn't a mass murderer, of course. The crimes he'd been sent to Azkaban for had actually been committed by one of his best friends who had turned a traitor to work for Lord Voldemort, the most feared dark wizard of all time. In fact, it was that same traitor, named Peter Pettigrew, better known as Wormtail, who had betrayed Harriet's own parents to Voldemort, who murdered them before attempting to kill Harriet.

But the Dursleys didn't need to know that, in Harriet's opinion. Especially not when the Dursleys' fear or Sirius in particular meant they now allowed her to keep all of her school things in her room, instead of locking them in the cupboard under the stairs.

Uncle Vernon scowled, but he didn't dare tell Harriet off. Not anymore. "This just arrived," he said and waved a piece of purple paper in Harriet's face. "A letter. About you."

Harriet blinked. Who would write to the Dursleys about Harriet? Everyone she knew used owls to send letters.

Uncle Vernon's glower grew as he held up the letter and read.

_Dear Mr and Mrs Dursley,_

_We have never been introduced, but I am sure you have heard a great deal from Harriet about our daughter, Ronnie._

_We're writing because Harriet has been requested to testify this summer before the Ministry of Magic. It is nothing Harriet is in trouble for, so there is no need to worry about that, but it is rather important that Harriet appear._

_Because of this, we are going to collect Harriet this Friday night. We think this will be simpler for everyone, as Arthur works at the Ministry, and can take Harriet with him, rather than requiring the Ministry come calling at your residence._

_The other reason we're writing is, as Harriet might have told you, it is the Quidditch World Cup this summer. My husband, Arthur, has just managed to get prime tickets through his connections at the Department of Magical Games and Sports._

_The Cup isn't until the 22__nd__ of August. Because of this, we would like to have Harriet stay with us for the remainder of the summer. As Britain has not hosted the World Cup final for thirty years, and _normal_ tickets are hard enough to come by, let alone tickets of these calibre. We really do hope you say yes, as this is indeed a once in a lifetime opportunity._

_It would be best if Harriet sent the response as quickly as possible in the normal way, because the Muggle postman has never delivered to our house, and I am not sure he even knows where it is._

_Hoping to see Harriet soon,_

_Yours sincerely,_

_Molly Weasley._

_P.S. I do hope we've put enough stamps on._

Uncle Vernon reached into his breast pocket and drew out more paper. "Look at this," he growled.

Harriet snorted in a laugh at the sight of the stamp-coated envelope. Uncle Vernon scowled and Harriet cleared her throat.

"So um… she did put enough stamps on, then?" Harriet asked, trying to make it sound as though it was a mistake anyone could have made.

"_The postman noticed!_" Uncle Vernon snarled.

_Well, yeah, he'd have to have been an idiot not to_, Harriet thought.

"Very interested to know where the letter came from. Seemed to think it was _funny_."

Harriet fought very hard not to roll her eyes. The one thing the Dursleys worried about more than anything was what the neighbours would think if they found out the Dursleys were related in any way to the magical world. This was a ridiculous worry in Harriet's opinion. The magical world went to great pains to hide itself from the non-magical one. Harriet thought they had a point. After her essay on medieval witch-burnings for Professor Binns, the old History of Magic professor, Harriet was sure that if enough people like the Dursleys found out about the magical world, such practices would not take long to come back into vogue.

"So, can I go then?" Harriet asked, breaking the silence.

Uncle Vernon's eyes twitched and his teeth ground together. Harriet knew what was going on behind Uncle Vernon's burning red face. It was the same dilemma that Harriet had given him last year over her Hogsmeade permission form. Letting Harriet go would make Harriet happy. But at the same time Harriet not being in the house would make Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley happy.

Uncle Vernon looked down at the letter again. "Who is this woman?" he asked, disdain written across his face.

"You've seen her before," Harriet said. "My friend Ronnie's mother. She met us as we got off the train a few weeks ago."

Uncle Vernon's scowl grew. "Dumpy sort of woman? With a load of kids with red hair?"

Harriet scowled now. It was rather rich of Uncle Vernon to call anyone 'dumpy,' with a son like Dudley. In fact, it was rather rich of Uncle Vernon to call anyone else 'dumpy' period.

"Quidditch?" Uncle Vernon muttered. "What is this rubbish?"

Harriet's annoyance grew. "It's a sport played on broom—"

"Alright! Alright!" Uncle Vernon growled, waving a panicky hand to stop Harriet from saying anymore.

Harriet smiled to herself. Uncle Vernon gave the letter one last look. "What does she mean here? The 'normal' way?"

"Oh, she means owl post. For wizards that's what's normal," Harriet replied.

Uncle Vernon hissed and stole a glance at the window. Harriet raised an eyebrow. What was Uncle Vernon expecting, the neighbours to be standing there with their ears pressed against the windows?

"How many times have I told you not to mention that unnatural… those… those _abominations_ under my roof!?" Uncle Vernon growled. "You stand here in the house we've let you live in, in the clothes Petunia and I—"

"You and Aunt Petunia what?" Harriet snapped. She plucked at the shoulder of her shirt, another that had been given to her by Scott's cousin, Jess.

"When exactly did you buy this for me? Or anything else you've seen me wear this summer?"

"I will not be spoken to like that!" Uncle Vernon roared, clenching his fists.

Harriet ignored this and sighed melodramatically. "Okay, well I guess I can't go to the World Cup," Harriet said, slyly.

She wasn't going to put up with the Dursleys and their attempts to keep her down. Not anymore. Not when she had her perfect out. It was time to call in the big guns.

"Can I go now, then?" Harriet asked. "I need to write a letter to my godfather. And good old 'Uncle' Remus. You know how they worry if they don't hear from me for a while."

Harriet felt a little pang of guilt at using ex-Professor Lupin's condition as a werewolf as further leverage against her Aunt and Uncle's oppression, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

This threat had the desired effect. Uncle Vernon's face drained of all colour. "Oh, you're uh… you're writing them, are you?"

"Of course," Harriet said. "It's been a week or so since I wrote them. Don't want them to think something's wrong."

Harriet simply marvelled at the effect these words had on Uncle Vernon. She felt as though she could see the gears working. If Uncle Vernon didn't let Harriet go, she would write to Sirius and Remus and tell them she was being mistreated. If he didn't let her write them, they would know that Harriet was being mistreated.

"Well, uh, alright then. Yes. You can go to this ruddy, this, this stupid, this _World Cup_ thing. Write these Weasleys and tell them we'll expect them Friday night."

"Awwwww thank you Uncle Vernon," Harriet said, in her most sickly sweet voice and actually popped up on tip-toe to kiss him on the cheek before turning and skipping from the room.

She met Dudley crouched at the keyhole. He had clearly been listening in, hoping to hear Uncle Vernon telling Harriet off.

"That was a wonderful breakfast, wasn't it?" Harriet said, rubbing her stomach. "I just feel so full, don't you?"

She skipped past him, enjoying the dumbstruck look on his face and headed up the stairs to her room. Harriet stepped inside and smiled even more. Hedwig was back after her night's hunting.

"Hiya Hed-OW!"

Harriet was cut off as something small and fluffy collided with the side of her head. She rubbed her head and watched as a small, fluffy ball flitted around the room like a speeding grey Snitch. It was an owl, and a tiny owl at that. If Harriet wasn't mistaken, it was the owl that Sirius had given to Ronnie as the end of last term as compensation for 'losing' Scabbers.

Harriet looked down and saw the owl had dropped a letter at her feet. Hedwig hissed angrily at the overly excited owl as it passed too near for Hedwig's comfort.

Harriet opened the letter and read.

_Harriet!_

_Dad got the tickets!_

_WERE GONNA BE IN THE TOP BOX!_

_Don't know who the teams are going to be yet but Fred and George say Bulgaria's a cert to make it but Charlie says Ireland. Charlie's home for the summer for work, but he won't tell me what. Anyway Mum and Dad wrote to ask if you could stay the whole summer cuz you, Dora, Hermione and me all gotta go testify about what happened in the Shrieking Shack. I'm crazy nervous, I don't know about you. What if they don't believe us cuz we're kids and all?_

_Anyway, send back your reply with Widgie. I don't know how fast Muggle post is, so I thought I'd send this with Piggers anyway. Anyway, if the muggles say yes, send your reply back with Piggy pronto, and we'll come get you Friday night. If they say no, write back and we'll come get you Friday night anyway. We mostly just sent the letter to be polite._

_See you Friday!_

_Ronnie_

Harriet snorted looking up at the owl which was still rocketing around the room.

"…Okay… I'm guessing those are all nicknames… just what did Ronnie name you?" Harriet asked in amusement.

The little owl settled down on Hedwig's cage. Hedwig's eyes narrowed to mere slits. Harriet hurried over to collect the owl off the cage before Hedwig decided to have a second dinner.

Harriet brought the owl over to her desk, grabbing up her ink and quill and wrote a short reply.

_Ronnie,_

_It's totally cool with the Dursleys. See you Friday. Can't wait! I'm really nervous about Sirius too. I try not to think about it, but it's not easy. See you Friday!_

_Harriet_

Harriet put the letter into an envelope and tied it to the little owl's leg. The owl took off at once and Harriet shook her head watching it go. Hedwig hooted from the bed next to her. Harriet smiled and rolled her eyes before reaching over to gently rub the back of Hedwig's head.

"No, Hedwig. No one could ever be a better post owl than you."

Hedwig hooted in a dignified way, moving her head around to help Harriet get the good spots.

Harriet grinned and knelt down next to her bed. Even after the ever-so-filling breakfast of one sixth of a grapefruit, Harriet was quite famished. This was where her tasty little secret stash came in handy. The moment Harriet heard that she was supposed to spend the entire summer eating almost nothing but carrot sticks on account of Dudley's diet, she had sent Hedwig with letters to all of her friends for help. Harriet wasn't disappointed.

Hedwig returned with a box of sugar-free snacks from Hermione Granger and her parents (who were dentists). The Weasleys, Harriet's favourite family in the world, had sent their poor, aged owl Errol with a massive home-made fruitcake and pasties. Errol had been so worn out from this particular mission that it took him an entire week to recover. Scott McIntyre and his family had sent Harriet some delicious candies and a tray of cupcakes, both of which Harriet was sure had been hand-made by Dobby, their house-elf.

Dora Flamel sent a box of baklava that Harriet had to be careful when eating, as they were so delicious they were difficult for Harriet to eat without moaning. Kieran O'Brien meanwhile sent a box of treacle tarts. These Harriet was saving for last. While treacle was her favourite, it had less to do with that, and more to do with the fact that Kieran said he made them himself. The only other item Harriet hadn't touched came from Hagrid. It wasn't that she didn't feel grateful to Hagrid for helping out, but she had tried Hagrid's rock cakes before, and knew better than to risk damaging her teeth.

Harriet took one of the baklava and flopped down on the bed next to Hedwig. Hedwig hooted indignantly and hopped up onto the headboard. Harriet giggled.

"Sorry," she moaned taking a bite of the delicious, honey-soaked pastry. "I know it's got nothing on mice and frogs, but if you were a human, you'd understand."

Hedwig hooted softly and leaned down to preen some of Harriet's hair. Harriet finished the baklava and sighed contentedly, staring at her ceiling as Hedwig kept attempting to deal with the mess of Harriet's hair on the pillow.

As the contentment of the treat and the excitement about going to stay with the Weasleys and then the World Cup faded, Harriet suddenly felt the worry start to set in. She was really worried about Sirius. In fact, she'd had more than one sleepless night about it this summer. While she was glad that Sirius was not in Azkaban, the fact was that if his trial did not go properly, he would go right back. Or worse, the Ministry might choose to execute him via the Dementor's Kiss, a fate worse than death. Instead of killing their victims, the Dementors would clamp their jaws over their victims' mouths and suck out their souls. Everything that made a person who they were gone in an instant, leaving behind a living, breathing body incapable of thinking or doing anything besides exist.

Then again, Harriet wasn't sure that Sirius not turning himself in would be any less stressful. If he was still on the run, the dementors would still be out looking for him, and would still be subject to their kiss if they caught him. Yet, if he was on the run, Harriet could at least have written to him. Fortunately, she did have one voice of comfort: Daniel.

Daniel had sent her letters every other day so far that summer. Words of comfort about Sirius' impending trial, mostly. Reassuring Harriet that the fact he voluntarily turned himself in would go a long way to helping change people's minds. Reminding her that his own testimony would be a big help. Outside of that, he would always ask how she was doing, if she was doing anything fun to keep her mind off her problems, urging her to get out of the house and try to make some friends. Harriet didn't really have the heart to tell Daniel that this was an unlikely prospect, as most of the kids in the neighbourhood were still too afraid of Dudley to go anywhere near "that Potter girl."

What made the letters even better was hearing from Remus as well, who was now living with Daniel in his shop. Remus had been most insistent in the letters that Harriet should call him Remus from now on as he was no longer a teacher and so should not be called professor, and going by surnames was too formal. Harriet would sometimes still call him 'Professor Lupin' though, just to read his exasperated responses. Even if she couldn't hear from Sirius, having those two in her life had helped her more than even the treats when it came to surviving this summer.

At that moment, there was a clattering of sharp talons on the windowsill. Harriet looked over and beamed. Sure enough, it was Daniel's eagle-owl, Axl. She sat up quickly, taking the letter. Axl hooted, and Hedwig allowed him to fly over and drink from her water before it swooped back out of the window. Harriet gave Hedwig a raised eyebrow as Hedwig watched Daniel's owl fly off. Hedwig ruffled up her feathers and hooted indignantly, hopping over onto the back of Harriet's desk chair and turning her back on Harriet.

Harriet rolled her eyes but giggled again, opened Daniel's letter, and read.

* * *

><p>Harriet sighed. It was Friday, and the Weasleys were almost forty-five minutes late. Harriet was sitting on the bottom step at the foot of the stairs, staring at the front door and waiting. The Dursleys meanwhile were still in the living room, grumbling to each other about the delay.<p>

"No consideration, at all," Aunt Petunia sniffed.

"We might have had an engagement," Uncle Vernon growled.

"They better not think they'll be invited to dinner if they're late."

"Certainly not," Uncle Vernon snapped and banged a fist on the arm of his chair. "They'll take the girl and go. No hanging ar-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"

Harriet jumped as Uncle Vernon cried out. She heard the Dursleys scrambling around and Dudley came hobbling out of the room as fast as his thick legs would carry him. Harriet on the other hand ran into the room.

At first, Harriet thought Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were staring at the electric fireplace. Then she heard the pounding on the wall from behind it. Harriet furrowed her brow when she suddenly remembered what was behind the new fireplace and burst out laughing.

"What is this?!" Uncle Vernon asked, glowering at Harriet and pointing at the wall. "What's going on?!"

"Ouch! No, Fred, you'll have to go back, there's no way—OUCH! George! There's no room! You'll have to go back and tell Ronnie—"

"Well we came to the right place, maybe Harriet can hear us?"

There was more hammering from the other side of the wall.

"Harriet? Hey Harriet, can you hear us?"

Harriet doubled over, she was laughing so hard. The old fireplace had been boarded over and the new electric coal fireplace installed in front of it.

"What the devil is happening?!" Uncle Vernon bellowed.

"They've tried to get here by floo powder," Harriet said. "Hold on. Mister Weasley? Fred? George? It's Harriet, I can hear you."

The pounding stopped and she heard Mr Weasley shush the others.

"Mister Weasley? It's Harriet. You can't get through that way, the fireplace has been blocked up."

"Damn," Mr Weasley said, sounding irritable. "What on earth did they block up the fireplace for?"

"They got an electric fireplace instead."

"Really? Eklectic you say? With a plug? Oh goodness, I must see that. Now, let me just think how-Ack! Ronnie!"

"What's going on," Harriet heard Ronnie now ask. "Something go wrong?"

"My goodness, you're right, Ronnie!" Fred said, his voice thick with irony.

"How could we have not seen it before?" George said, though his voice was muffled, as though his face was smooshed up against the wall.

"Now, now, you three," Mr Weasley said. "Yes… only way I'm afraid. Uh, stand back, Harriet!"

Harriet backed up quickly. Uncle Vernon however charged forward.

"Wait a moment!" he bellowed. "What are you going to—"

BANG!

The wall exploded. Harriet covered her head as debris went flying everywhere. She opened her eyes again and took in the scene. Drywall dust filled the air. The electric fireplace had been blown across the room. Debris littered the room; Aunt Petunia's decorations and knickknacks scattered about and smashed. Aunt Petunia herself had toppled backwards over the coffee table.

Meanwhile, where the electric fireplace had been, now stood Harriet's best friend Ronnie, her father, Arthur, and her twin brothers, Fred and George. The Weasleys normally bright red hair now looked grey from the falling dust.

"That's better," Mr Weasley said, stepping into the room and brushing dust off his bright-green, though slightly frayed, robes.

Harriet was doing her best not to laugh. She didn't know how she'd expected the Weasleys to arrive, but it certainly hadn't been via the Dursleys boarded up fireplace. Mr Weasley cleaned his glasses and smiled at Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia.

"Ah, you must be Harriet's aunt and uncle!" he said cheerfully, holding out a hand to Uncle Vernon.

Uncle Vernon responded however by backing away several paces and pulling Aunt Petunia's prostrate form further away from Mr Weasley. Uncle Vernon glanced in enraged disbelief at the fireplace and back again. Mr Weasley ran a hand over his balding head looking sheepish.

"Oh, yes… sorry about that… all my fault. It just never occurred to me that we wouldn't be able to get through on the other side. Didn't know there were muggle houses without properly working fireplaces. Every Wizarding home has one. Of course, muggle houses aren't supposed to be hooked up to the Floo Network anyway, strictly speaking. I had to pull a few strings myself with a useful contact of mine in the Floo Network to hook yours up for just the afternoon so we could collect Harriet. Not to worry though, I'll be able to put it right back the way it was again in a jiffy. I'll just make a fire to send the kids back and then I can repair it before I disapparate."

For all the explaining Mr Weasley was trying to do, he might as well have been speaking Greek. Uncle Vernon clearly had no idea what anything Mr Weasley had just said meant.

"Ah, hello Harriet," Mr Weasley said smiling at her. "Got your trunk ready?"

"Yes, Mister Weasley," Harriet said, beaming. "It's upstairs."

"We'll get it," Fred said, eagerly.

He hurried past Harriet into the hallway with the staircase. George rolled his eyes but smiled as he followed, clearly not in as big a hurry as Fred was. Harriet wondered if Fred was anxious to get a look at Dudley.

Meanwhile, a deathly silence had fallen on the living room. Mr Weasley swung his arms a bit, awkwardly, and looked around the room.

"Very, um, very nice place, you've got," Mr Weasley said.

As the living room, which was usually spotless from Aunt Petunia's strict cleaning regimen, was now covered in dust and destroyed belongings, this didn't exactly come across as a compliment to the Dursleys.

Still trying to break the silence, Mr Weasley now turned his attention on the television. "Ah, it runs of ecclestoncity, does it? Ah yes, there's the plug. You know I collect plugs? Fascinating hobby, though my wife thinks I'm mad."

It was clear to Harriet that this was one issue on which Mrs Weasley and the Dursleys would wholeheartedly agree. At that moment Dudley hustled into the room. Harriet heard the thumping of her trunk on the stairs as Fred and George returned. Undoubtedly their noise had frightened Dudley once more.

Dudley edged along the wall towards his parents. He attempted to hide behind them, but even Uncle Vernon was nowhere near enough to hide Dudley's form. Dudley whimpered loudly as Fred and George came into the room. However, stealing a glance at Ronnie and taking in the look on her face, Harriet was sure that Fred and George were the least of Dudley's troubles.

"Ah, and this is your cousin, is it?" Mr Weasley asked.

"Yep, that's Dudley," Harriet replied.

Dudley was still cowering behind his parents, clutching his backside in terror. Mr Weasley looked concerned.

"Uh, are you having a good holiday, Dudley?" Mr Weasley asked.

Dudley's only response was a tiny whimper.

Fred and George returned to the room, Harriet's trunk between them, with Hedwig's cage set on top. Fred and George caught sight of Dudley their faces both turned into wolfish, wicked grins. Fred spotted Harriet watching them and gave her a tiny wink.

"Ah, there you two are," Mr Weasley said and drew his wand.

The Dursleys drew back further, backing into the wall at the sight of the wand. Mr Weasley seemed not to notice as he pointed his wand at the fireplace in the exploded wall.

"_Incendio_," Mr Weasley said and at once a fire sprang to life in the fireplace, blazing as though it had been burning for hours.

Mr Weasley took a draw-string pouch from his pocket and opened it. He took a pinch of the powder inside it and threw it into the flames. The flames turned an emerald green at once and roared even higher. Behind her, Aunt Petunia gave a stifled gasp.

"Right, off you go then, George," Mr Weasley said.

"Sure thing," George said and stepped up to the hearth, said clearly "the Burrow!" and stepped into the flames. Aunt Petunia gasped once more as the flames made a whooshing noise and George vanished from view.

"Now you, Fred," Mr Weasley said.

"Got it," Fred said.

He grunted as he bent down to tip Harriet's trunk onto its side so he could carry it more easily into the fire. Ronnie moved over to help and as they stood back up with the trunk, Harriet saw Fred slip something into Ronnie's hand. He and Ronnie both gave Harriet little smirks and Fred stepped up to the flames with the trunk, said "The Burrow!" and vanished after George.

"And you, Ronnie," Mr Weasley said.

Ronnie grinned. "See you!" she said and waved to the Dursleys. At that moment she dropped the item Fred had passed her. It was a bag of sweets which burst open on the floor and scattered gaily wrapped toffees everywhere.

"Oh no," Ronnie said and she and Harriet knelt picking them up.

Harriet held one up to inspect it but Ronnie quickly snatched it away, gave Harriet a wink, and put it back in the bag. Harriet was perplexed but Ronnie didn't give her time to ask before she stood up.

"Think that's got them all," Ronnie said pocketing the bag. She too stepped up to the fire, said "The Burrow!" and vanished.

Harriet looked at the Dursleys.

"Well, umm… bye then," she said and turned to approach the fireplace.

However, Mr Weasley held out a hand to stop her. He was staring at the Dursleys in amazement. "Harriet's just said goodbye to you… didn't you hear her?"

"It's fine," Harriet said, wanting to leave as quickly as possible. "I don't care, nor do they."

But Mr Weasley didn't budge. "You aren't going to see your niece until next summer. Surely you're going to say goodbye?"

Uncle Vernon's face went very red, very quickly. Apparently he did not relish the idea of being lectured on manners by a man who had just blown a hole in his wall. However, his eyes darted to Mr Weasley's wand and he decided against speaking out.

"Goodbye then," Uncle Vernon said, his voice full of resentment.

Harriet nodded and turned to put her foot into the flames. They felt like a jet of warm air being blown over her. She was stopped however by a horrible gagging sound and Aunt Petunia's scream. She looked back and saw that Dudley had left the relative safety of his parents' and was kneeling beside the toppled coffee table. He was gagging, his eyes wide with shock and terror, tugging on what looked like a foot-long, purple slug protruding from his mouth. After a head-shake, Harriet realized it was not a slug, but Dudley's own tongue. Harriet glanced down and saw one of the bright toffee wrappers on the floor.

Aunt Petunia screamed and threw herself upon Dudley. She seized the tongue and tugged hard on it. Predictably, Dudley cried out, shaking his head and tried to tug his tongue back from Aunt Petunia. Uncle Vernon, meanwhile, was bellowing like an angry bull. Mr Weasley was shouting trying to make himself heard over the din.

"Now don't panic! There's no need to panic! I can put it right in an instant!" Mr Weasley shouted and moved closer to Dudley, holding out his wand.

This only worked to make Aunt Petunia scream even louder and throw herself on top of Dudley to shield him. Dudley's eyes went even wider as he tried to push her off him and his oversized tongue flopped onto his face. If Harriet wasn't mistaken, the tongue had grown even larger.

"Now really!" Mr Weasley said indignantly. "I am trying to help! It's the simplest of spells to set it right. My sons are real practical jokers I'm afraid, though I'll be having words with my daughter too, since she has been getting a little too involved in their antics this summer for Molly's comfort. Anyway, it looks like just a simple Engorgement Charm. Please if you'll just step aside I can correct—"

The Dursleys however panicked even more. Aunt Petunia resumed tugging on Dudley's tongue which was closing on two feet long now. Dudley was spluttering and writhing, being suffocated by his mother's weight and his tongue. Uncle Vernon on the other hand grabbed a nearby fallen ornament and flung it at Mr Weasley. Fortunately, Mr Weasley saw it coming and managed to duck out of the way in time.

"Now see here!" Mr Weasley shouted. He was starting to lose his temper.

Uncle Vernon's bellow increased in volume from angry bull to apoplectic hippo and grabbed up a nearby foot-stool instead.

"Go Harriet!" Mr Weasley called. "I'll sort this out! Go!"

Harriet was too mesmerized by the spectacle to move, but was quickly brought to her senses by the foot-stool smashing into the wall next to her head. She stepped into the flames and as she did so shouted "The Burrow!"

As she was whipped out of sight, Harriet got one last fleeting glimpse of Number Four's living room. Mr Weasley blasted another ornament out of Uncle Vernon's hand with his wand. Dudley just managed to get his tongue out of Aunt Petunia's grasp when the green flames whipped her away to The Burrow.

Harriet kept her elbows tucked tight to her sides and closed her eyes. Finally she started to slow down and felt her feet hit cement. She only stumbled a couple feet and Fred caught her.

"Someday I'll get used to that," Harriet said.

"Shame," Fred said. "I'm already used to this."

There was something odd in the tone of his voice but Harriet didn't get to ask before Ronnie spoke up. "Did he eat it?"

"Yeah," Harriet said, getting back to her feet and dusting off her blouse. "What the hell was that?"

"Ton-Tongue Toffee!" George said, beaming in pride. "That was its inaugural test run."

A wave of laughter broke out in the little kitchen. Ronnie and George were still standing nearby, while Ginny, Hermione, and Marcus were sitting around the kitchen table with another red-haired man who Harriet didn't recognize at first, until she remembered the photograph of the Weasleys in Egypt and realized this must be Charlie, the brother who worked with dragons in Romania.

He was built more like the twins, stockier in form than Mr Weasley and Ronnie. His face was rounder and had a very good natured smile, with twinkling blue eyes and so many freckles that he almost looked tan. He rose and held out a hand to Harriet and she saw that while his arms were covered in shiny burn marks here and there, they were also very muscly. Harriet's hand felt tiny in his as she shook and she felt that familiar feeling of butterflies in her stomach come rushing back as she met his gaze.

"Hiya, Harriet. Hear you're the one who managed to take Gryffindor back to glory on the pitch," he said smiling.

Harriet felt herself flush as bright as Charlie's freckles. She'd forgotten that Charlie had been the Seeker before her, and was almost as legendary a Seeker as her own father had been.

"So, what _exactly_ does a _Ton-Tongue Toffee_ do?" Marcus asked, sounding disapproving.

Harriet blinked coming back to reality.

"Engorges the tongue a bit," Fred said casually.

"Define a bit…" Hermione asked, her eyes narrowed.

At that moment, there was a faint popping noise and Mr Weasley appeared standing right between Fred and George. He looked livid.

"THAT WASN'T FUNNY, BOYS!" Mr Weasley bellowed.

Harriet thought even Uncle Vernon would have appreciated how angry Mr Weasley could get.

"Why what on earth do you mean, Father?" Fred asked.

"You know _exactly_ what I mean!" Mr Weasley snapped. "That bag of sweets you passed Ronnie! I should have stopped you then but I didn't want to cause a scene. But after _that_ nonsense—"

"How big did his tongue get?" George asked, apparently more interested in how the test went than avoiding trouble.

"It was four foot long by the time they let me shrink it!" Mr Weasley then rounded on Ronnie. "And I told you about not getting involved in your brothers' antics! My own sons and eldest daughter, undermining wizard-Muggle relations! I've worked my _whole life_—"

"It had nothing to do with him being a Muggle!" Ronnie retorted. "It was because he's a great bullying arse!"

"You watch your language, young lady!" Mr Weasley barked.

"But he is!" Harriet said trying to defend her friend.

"That's not the point!" Mr Weasley said, though his anger abated a little as he clearly did not want to yell at Harriet. He rounded on Fred and George again instead. "You two just wait until I tell your mother!"

"Tell me what?"

Mrs Weasley had arrived. Her eyes were narrowed with suspicion as she glanced from Mr Weasley to the twins. Mr Weasley ran a hand over his bald-spot again, now looking sheepish himself. Clearly he had not intended to actually tell Mrs Weasley.

"Tell me what, Arthur?" Mrs Weasley pressed.

"Uh it's… it's nothing, Molly," Mr Weasley said. "Fred and George, er… well I've had words with them, so there's—"

"What have they done this time?" Mrs Weasley asked. "If it's more of that rubbish with _Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes_—"

"Uh, why don't we go find Dora?" Hermione asked.

"Uh yeah, good idea," Ginny said.

Marcus, Ronnie, and Hermione rose and the group started moving towards the door.

"Uh, we'll come too," Fred said.

"_You'll stay where you are_!" Mrs Weasley snarled.

Harriet and the others edged out of the kitchen and into the hallway, heading towards the back door to the garden.

"Okay, so what exactly are _Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes_?" Harriet asked once they were out of earshot.

Ginny and Ronnie both laughed, though Hermione and Marcus didn't.

"It's a sort of joke shop they're thinking of starting up," Ginny explained. All sorts of prank stuff and tricks. It's ruddy brilliant!"

"We never knew they were actually inventing things," Ronnie said. "We thought they just liked the noise and all that. But anyway, Mum found their order forms and went berserk. Cuz well, a lot of the stuff it turns out is a bit dangerous."

"Like engorging a tongue?" Marcus grumbled. "I know Dudley's a git, but he could have choked to death!"

"I agree," Hermione said, sniffing in disapproval.

"Yeah, well Dad sorted it out anyway," Ronnie said dismissively. "Anyway, she burnt all the order forms and threw out all their work. She was already pretty furious with them anyway, they didn't get very many O.W.L.s."

They exited into the garden. As they did, they heard Mrs Weasley's raised voice begin shouting. Apparently Mr Weasley had caved. A second later, Charlie slipped out the door behind them.

"Right," he said awkwardly. "Don't think I was needed for that either."

Harriet giggled automatically, and much louder than she normally did. Her friends all gave her a funny look and she looked around looking for something else to talk about.

"Uh, so Dora's here already?" she asked.

"Yeah, got here about an hour before you did," Ronnie said. "She's probably still helping Crookshanks chase gnomes."

At that moment, Dora appeared around the corner. She looked breathless but had a wide smile on her face and was covered in dirt.

"Gnomes!" she said, breathing heavily. "Gnomes are fun! I never knew!"

Without another word she darted away, cackling hysterically.

"She… didn't get out much as a kid, did she?" Charlie asked.

"Probably not," Ronnie said. She rolled her eyes but her smile was soft. "She's a Flamel, you know, like Nicolas Flamel?"

"Ohhhhhhhhh," Charlie said. He nudged Ronnie with his elbow. "Good _friend_ to have then, eh?"

"Oh shut up," Ronnie snapped and Charlie laughed.

Harriet rolled her eyes again but paused looking at Marcus. "Oh," she said. "You got glasses?"

Marcus flushed a little as he took the glasses off to look at them. "Well, yeah, kind of uh, always had them," he said. "Just never liked wearing them much cuz I never wanted to break them during sports or helping dad in the garden."

"Yes, but not getting terrible headaches by wearing them _regularly_ is a rather nice trade-off, isn't it?" Hermione said in a reprimand.

"Yeah, yeah, okay-okay," Marcus said, putting the glasses back on.

"Can you lot have your little chit-chat somewhere else?" called a voice from above them. "Some people are trying to work."

Harriet looked up to see Percy's head sticking out of his bedroom window, scowling down at them.

"Yeah, sorry Perce," Charlie said.

Charlie gave Harriet an ever-suffering look which gave her more butterflies and they moved off to the big table in the garden. As they sat, the back door opened again and Kieran and Scott stepped out.

"Hey, there they are," Marcus called and waved to them.

The two boys smiled and made their way over.

"Hey you lot," Scott said, sitting between Ronnie and Hermione.

"So, Fred and George up to the usual?" Kieran asked, grunting as he swung his bad leg over the bench and sat between Harriet and Ginny.

"More or less," Charlie chuckled and held out a hand to the boys, making introductions.

Dora finally came over and squeezed in between Kieran and Harriet. She smiled around at everyone obliviously but Harriet noticed it. Hermione, Scott, and Marcus were both giving her a disapproving look for squeezing in where she did, as there was room elsewhere at the table. Though to her surprise, Ronnie, who had never exactly had the best grasp of tact, was giving Dora a very dirty look indeed.

"So, how's your owl, Ronnie?" Kieran asked smiling. Apparently he was just as oblivious as well.

"Oh, he's fine," Ronnie said smiling.

"Oh yeah, I was gonna ask about that," Harriet asked. "After your letter. What exactly did you name him, you called him like three different names in the letter?"

Ginny laughed. "His name's Pigwidgeon."

"Isn't that the cutest name?" Dora said.

Ronnie flushed. "Well, yeah, I mean Ginny named him, but…"

"Ohhhhhh," Harriet said.

"So you got our food parcels okay then, Harriet?" Hermione asked.

"Oh yeah, they were great," Harriet said.

Charlie smiled and got up. "Well, I'll let you lot chat. Mum'll be over the worst of it by now," he said and headed back to the house.

Harriet couldn't help but watch him go, taking in the broad shoulders, moving down to the trimmer waist and especially the well fitted pair of blue-jeans.

"You're going to leave eye-ball marks on your lenses you know?"

Harriet jumped to see everyone looking at her. Hermione, Ginny, Scott and Marcus were looking very amused. Next to her, Dora and Kieran however seemed to not have noticed. Harriet flushed even redder.

"Well, he is, you know, nice," Harriet said.

"Uh-huh," Ronnie said. "That wasn't my brother's personality you were ogling."

Everyone around the table broke out laughing. Ronnie seemed in a much better mood all the sudden. Only Dora didn't laugh. Ginny laughed briefly but then leaned across both Kieran and Dora to give Harriet a playful swat on the shoulder.

"Hey, hands off my brothers. I gotta be all protective as the sister and stuff, you know."

Everyone laughed even louder. Even Dora this time.

"Hey, that'd make Harriet part of the family though," Ronnie said.

"Oh yeah," Ginny said. "Good point! Though you know Fred's a bit—"

"Okay can we all _not_ talk about trying to set me up with people?" Harriet interjected, starting to feel a little ganged up on.

"Okay, okay," Scott said, though he was still chuckling.

"Dinner's served," Mrs Weasley's voice came from the doorway.

Out she came with Mr Weasley, Charlie, and Percy in tow, many serving trays of food floating along behind them. At the rear were Fred and George, looking disgruntled carrying stacks of plates and bundles of silverware. Mr Weasley set down the trays of food he was levitating and summoned another table which floated over to join the other.

"There we are," he said in a forced cheerful voice. "Much better for all of us."

With everyone together, talk thankfully moved on to other subjects. Charlie, Fred, George, Marcus, and Dora all got into a discussion about what teams were likely to make it to the cup final. Others talked about what they'd done over the summer so far. As the talk went on, Harriet noted there was one topic in particular that everyone seemed to be avoiding: Sirius' trial. She didn't particularly want to talk about it, but somehow it felt wrong of her to pretend it wasn't happening.

"So, what day are we going to have to go to the Ministry?" Harriet asked.

An awkward silence passed over the table. Mr and Mrs Weasley exchanged a glance.

"On Wednesday, Harriet dear," Mrs Weasley said. "But we don't want you worrying on that. The goal of having you all together here is to have fun."

Mrs Weasley resumed eating. Harriet took this to mean the topic was now closed. Fred leaned over from across the table as Mr Weasley and Percy began to get into a pointed discussion about someone who'd gone missing.

"Mum doesn't believe it. About Sirius I mean," he said in a hushed voice.

"Yeah," Ronnie agreed, giving her mother a disapproving look. "I mean I can see why she wouldn't believe you two, but she usually listens to things when either Ginny or me tell her."

Fred rolled his eyes.

"Ginny or _I_," Dora corrected.

Ronnie threw a little kick at her under the table but Dora pulled her feet back in time to dodge. Ronnie stuck her tongue out at Dora who sniggered victoriously. George meanwhile was writing something.

"Letter to Erica?" she asked.

George smiled and to Harriet's surprise he didn't look the slightest bit embarrassed.

"Of course," he said, smiling. "Gotta keep in touch, her being at Hogwarts and all. Gotta give her at least a hint of testosterone, what with all the girls she's stuck there with."

"Oh gee, a world with no boys, that would be just _awful_," Ronnie teased.

George discretely threw a piece of potato at her. Everyone else around them laughed, even Harriet.

"Well, it's not like there's no boys at all," Scott said.

"Yeah, there's Ben," Kieran agreed.

"Didn't he graduate?" Dora asked.

"No, he's got one more year," Marcus said.

"Well, maybe we can talk him into taking up Wood's old Keeper position for a year," Fred suggested.

"He would make a good one I think," Harriet agreed. "Though he's never seemed that interested."

"Well, a girl keeper wouldn't hurt," Ronnie said casually.

Fred rolled his eyes again. "Oy, the team already has four girls out of seven players. The balance is already in your favour."

"Well, I think it would be a nice change," Dora joined in. "I mean look at _my_ house's stupid team… they haven't had a girl on the team since Flint took over."

Ronnie flushed. It wasn't often Dora and Ronnie said anything to each other that wasn't a teasing barb. However, at that moment, Dora changed tact at once.

"Although seriously, what is your problem with boys?" she asked. "I mean, you talk about them a lot, but…"

Ronnie shrugged becoming very interested in her piece of chicken. "Nothing. I'm just… very selective," she said.

"Riiiiiight," Fred said.

"So, this is going to be a strange question, but how exactly _did_ you manage to enchant the toffee so that it put the Engorgement Charm on someone else, rather than just engorging the toffee itself?" Hermione asked the twins.

Harriet didn't know what made her think so, but she had a suspicion that Hermione had changed the subject on purpose.

"Oh, well it's actually not that hard, you see the trick is—"

Harriet was distracted again by Charlie, who moved over to sit next to her instead, and instantly all other thoughts and worries vanished.

"So, Ronnie says you have a real _Firebolt_ eh?" he asked her.

"Oh-oh, yeah," Harriet said. "Serial number seven."

Charlie whistled. "First production batch. How'd you get your hands on that?"

Harriet flushed. "Uh, Sirius, my godfather. He gave it to me to make up for all the Christmases and birthdays he's missed."

Charlie nodded and his smile didn't falter. Apparently he did not share Mrs Weasley's reservations about Sirius' innocence. However, now that Harriet had reminded herself of the trial again, she felt the tightness in her stomach return. Charlie seemed to notice.

"Don't waste your time worrying about it, kiddo," he said in an undertone. "The trial will be overseen by Dumbledore and Amelia Bones. If Dumbledore already believes he's innocent, then he's a cert to get off. And Amelia Bones is a good egg, too. Don't even worry about giving your testimony, right? Just go in, tell your story, be confident about it, and that's that."

"You think?" Harriet asked, trying to keep the plea out of her voice.

"Totally," Charlie said.

"So, you believe he's innocent too?" Harriet asked.

Charlie smiled. "Of course. I trust Ronnie—"

Harriet saw Ronnie flush once more and smile with a bit of pride.

"—I trust you. I trust Dumbledore. I trust Howe. And I trust your dad."

Harriet blinked. "You knew my dad?" she asked, though finding this unlikely. Charlie couldn't have been more than a few years old when Harriet's parents died.

Charlie chuckled. "Well no, not exactly. But when you spend six years as a Seeker living in his shadow, you learn a lot about a bloke. If Sirius Black was his best friend, then I'll believe he was innocent."

Harriet smiled more and Charlie ruffled her hair. She felt a little awkward, realizing his hand was so large it covered almost all of the top of her head.

"So buck up, kiddo, you're in for a blast of a summer,' Charlie said.

"Okay," Harriet said, feeling a great weight off her shoulders.

Charlie smiled wider and turned the conversation back to Quidditch. "So, rumour has it you caught the Snitch in under a minute in your second match?"

Harriet went scarlet.


	3. Testimony

**Chapter 3**

**Testimony**

* * *

><p>"In any given situation in your life, all you can ever hope to give is your best, whatever that best is."<p>

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

* * *

><p>Wednesday came with indecent speed. Not that Harriet wasn't having fun. Indeed, it was all the fun that helped make the time pass so quickly. Harriet, Hermione, and Dora were all camped out on cots in Ronnie's room. The boys were sleeping with Fred and George in their room.<p>

As Bill and Charlie's old rooms had been turned into storage, Charlie was sleeping out in a tent in the back garden. Harriet felt bad about this, but Ronnie assured her that Charlie practically lived in a tent while he worked in Romania, and Harriet felt a little better. In fact, it made Harriet puzzle to herself over how that realization took the situation right out of pity and straight into romance.

Ronnie had started her summer football league once more, so on Saturday afternoon they went to watch her local match in town. Harriet was glad to see Luna Lovegood and her father again. She had not seen much of Luna since her last summer at the Burrow. Harriet was most amused to see Dora get so into the game, hopping up and down and cheering every time Ronnie stopped a goal.

"Well, it's not Quidditch, but I can see the appeal," Dora said taking her seat.

Everyone but Harriet rolled their eyes at her. Apparently they all realized something Harriet didn't, but she was too caught up in the game to ask.

Sunday afternoon was part Quidditch practice, part flying lessons. Harriet, Dora, Charlie, Fred, George, and Ginny, being the most experienced flyers, were helping Hermione, Marcus, and Ronnie. Kieran kept insisting he couldn't risk hurting his leg, but Harriet couldn't help but notice the slight look of longing on his face as he watched them. Scott, in solidarity with his friend, opted to sit it out with him instead of joining in.

Harriet had a great deal of fun flying with Charlie. He hadn't played Quidditch in a while, having graduated the year before Harriet went to Hogwarts, but he had still played longer than Harriet and so had quite a few good manoeuvres to teach her. However, Harriet couldn't help but notice that even Charlie would pause every now and then and look down at Kieran and Scott, rubbing his chin.

Monday it started to rain so they all stayed inside. Fortunately, Percy had to work, and so wasn't around to yell at them for "making a racket." Unfortunately, from Harriet's perspective, Charlie also had work to do, and so was gone all day as well.

Despite this, Harriet and her friends passed the day playing Exploding Snap and Gobstones. Around lunch, Fred actually pulled Harriet aside and snuck her into Charlie's old room. He awkwardly circumnavigated the stacks of boxes, going all the way to the back corner and returned with a box that did not look as dusty as the others.

"Lemme guess, _Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes_?" she asked, shrewdly.

"Well yeah," Fred said. "We had to hide it somewhere Mum wouldn't look."

He set the box down and opened it. "Just a few things we've come up with that Mum didn't bin," he said, smiling proudly.

"Oh, I recognize these," Harriet said taking a wand out. It was the same kind of trick wand Fred had used to bribe the American girls living with the Flumes.

"Yeah," Fred said proudly. "George and I are sure those are going to be a favourite. We've spent five months developing the toffees. We're really anxious to test out the Canary Cremes."

"Do I want to know?" Harriet asked.

Fred laughed. He smiled and looked down at Harriet's left wrist. "Oh, that's nice," he said pointing.

Harriet looked down too, and saw the bracelet she'd been given, secretly by someone, the previous Christmas.

"Oh, yeah," she said holding it up. "Got it from someone last Christmas. Never found out who."

"Really?" Fred asked, studying it. "Lucky Dora didn't rat it out to McGonagall too then, eh?"

Harriet shrugged. "Yeah, well I mean, I'd already put it on, and it didn't kill me or anything. It's weird though, a little card came with it, but I forgot to fill it out after the _Firebolt_."

"A card?" Fred asked. "What was on it?"

"Oh, just questions about how well it worked."

"How did it work?"

"Well, it's supposed to turn red when someone around me is being deceitful, like the Pocket Sneakoscope that Ronnie got me."

"Yeah, bit less conspicuous than a Sneakoscope isn't it?" Fred asked. "Uh, if it works, that is."

"Yeah, well…" Harriet began another thought occurring to her that had not before. "Actually, I think it did."

"Did it?" Fred asked eagerly.

"Yeah, I just remembered. Every time it went red last year Pettigrew was around, you know, as Scabbers. And… you know, now I think on it, the Sneakoscope Ronnie gave me would only go off when Pettigrew was nearby too."

Fred was looking at the bracelet, very satisfied.

Harriet looked from the bracelet, to Fred, to the bracelet again and rolled her eyes. "Omigod it was you, wasn't it?" she said giving his shoulder a playful shove.

"Ack, hey!" Fred laughed. "Well of course it was. George and I got the idea to make it after that Sneakoscope kept going off while we were putting beetles in Bill's soup."

Harriet chuckled. "Beetles? I'm beginning to think the slightest thing will make a Sneakoscope spin."

"It obviously worked really well," Fred continued, waiving his hand at Harriet's comment. "But we thought it was a bit over the top as an actual defence mechanism. So we started making a more discrete method of detection.

"Then there was Sirius on the loose—yeah I know he's innocent—" Fred said seeing the look on Harriet's face "—but we _didn't_ at the time! And well, you were definitely the person who needed something like that the most. I mean you couldn't be in class and have that mad Sneakoscope go off and cause a scene anytime someone lied about their homework. So just thought this could keep you on your guard, but secretly."

Harriet flushed looking up at Fred. Fred had always been much nicer to her than anyone else, but this was too much.

"Wow," she said softly. "Thank you Fred, that was very sweet of you. But why didn't you just tell me about it?"

Fred flushed and ran a hand over his hair, rather like Mr Weasley did when puzzled or anxious. "Well, George wanted to give it to Erica, for one," he admitted. "You can imagine the hell he gave me when she got kidnapped," he muttered under his breath. "And we were really trying to keep our inventions under the radar at that point."

Harriet smiled and actually went up on tip-toes to peck Fred on the cheek. Fred instantly went as red as his hair.

"Well thanks, Fred. It was really sweet, and I'll definitely keep wearing it as much as I can," she said.

Fred beamed.

* * *

><p>Harriet shivered. Her nerves were wracked in a way they'd never been before. She hadn't even been this nervous at her first Quidditch match. She supposed it was because, unlike Quidditch, her godfather's freedom – possibly his life – hung on her testimony.<p>

Mrs Weasley had woken them at the crack of dawn. She had gone through everyone's clothes the night before and picked out their nicest wears. George, as the only witness of the boys, was wearing a pressed, three-piece suit, though it was a bit long in the legs for him, having once been Bill's.

Hermione was wearing a navy blazer and white blouse with navy skirt, nude hose and pumps. Ronnie, in an attempt at early morning levity, had joked about Hermione applying for a job with the Ministry herself. Her laughter died abruptly however when her mother presented her with a light-blue cardigan, white floral sundress, white bobby-socks and saddle-shoes.

Dora meanwhile was wearing a black cardigan with a white and grey argyle pattern on the chest, a white button up shirt underneath, a black a-line skirt, black knee socks and polished black clogs.

"You look nice," Harriet said.

Dora flushed a little. "Well, I've had a good source of inspiration," she said.

Harriet smiled in response. She herself was wearing another of Jess' old outfits; a white long-sleeved turtleneck, burgundy pinafore dress, white knee socks and penny loafers.

Ronnie had rolled her eyes, muttering "girls" and tromped out of the room angrily.

Now, an hour later, they were standing in the employee entrance to the Ministry of Magic. They had arrived via floo powder, and Harriet's mouth fell open, taking in the sight.

The floor was a dark, polished wood. The ceiling was a bright, peacock blue, and was inlaid with golden symbols that moved about, spelling out words like a giant announcement board. The walls were panelled with the same kind of wood as the floor, and lined up and down by gilded fireplaces.

Many witches and wizards were coming and going through them, bustling in and out, some wearing variously coloured uniforms. Echoing voices filled the atrium, the volume increased by the constant popping and cracking of Ministry witches and wizards apparating and disapparating.

"Over 'ere, Monsieur Weasley," called a deep voice with a thick French accent.

They looked around and saw that Kieran, Scott, and Dora's parents were already there.

"This way, everyone," Mr Weasley said. "As visitors, you'll all have to be checked in."

He led the group down the long atrium, a giant, golden fountain looming into view. Harriet gaped at the sight. It was enormous and featured a tall, stoic looking wizard with a beaming witch beside him. The wizard was pointing his wand straight up in the air. Arrayed around them was a goblin, a centaur, and a house-elf. Water was spouting from each of the witch and wizard's wands, the tip of the centaur's arrow, the point of the goblin's hat, and the tips of the house-elf's ears.

"The Fountain of Magical Brethren," Mr Weasley said to Harriet when he saw her looking.

"Where are werewolves?" Harriet asked, without thinking.

"Ah, well," Mr Weasley said uncomfortably. "The fountain is rather old, and despite calls to add other magical beings, the Ministry has been, well, _reluctant_ to change such a _historical_ landmark."

Harriet couldn't help but notice the slight tone of disdain in Mr Weasley's voice. Harriet gave the fountain a slightly more distasteful look as they passed. She did note that the bottom of the fountain's pool was covered in a thin layer of bronze knuts and silver sickles, and a small engraved plaque declared that all the proceeds of the pool went to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

Mr Weasley led them to a small golden gate with a sign labelled _Security_. Seated at a window beneath the sign was a poorly shaven wizard in peacock blue robes. He didn't see them approach at first, too engrossed in his copy of the _Daily Prophet_.

"Good morning," Mr Weasley said. "I'm escorting some guests today."

The man looked up and took in the group. "Blimey," he said. "_Some guests_ is right, Arthur. Right, first one into the gate."

One by one, the group passed through the security gate. The security wizard waved a long, golden rod up and down everyone's front and back, then set everyone's wands in a small golden instrument. The instrument vibrated before spitting out a small strip of parchment with a description of each wand's makeup.

Finally through security, Mr Weasley led them to a row of nearly two-dozen golden gates. Behind each was a lift.

"I think I'm noticing a pattern here," Marcus said, taking in the gates with mounting distaste.

"Not a fan of gold?" Dora asked. She sounded slightly short.

Marcus shrugged. "Just wonder how many families could have been fed with that gold, instead?"

Dora sniffed and hurried past Marcus into the lift with her family and the O'Briens. He looked after her with some concern as the lift dropped out of sight, when Hermione nudged his elbow and pointed to another small placard that read:

_All gates generously donated by the Flamel Foundation for Human-Goblin Relations_

"Oh," Marcus muttered.

Hermione smiled patting his arm consolingly. "You couldn't have known."

"Well, you saw the sign," he muttered.

They stepped into the next lift. The lift trundled downwards.

"Where is Sirius' trial?" Harriet asked Mr Weasley.

"Down in old courtroom ten," he said with a hint of foreboding in his voice. "They haven't used that one since—ah, here we are."

The lift stopped and a cool, disembodied female voice said, "Department of Mysteries."

"Department of Mysteries?" Harriet asked.

"No time to worry about that," Mr Weasley said, guiding them towards a single black door at the end of the corridor.

Harriet expected them to continue towards the door, but instead Mr Weasley guided them down another corridor off the left and down a flight of stairs. At the bottom was another corridor which put Harriet in mind of the corridors of the dungeons of Hogwarts. The corridor was lined with lit torches in brackets that seemed to do very little to actually light the corridor, and heavy wooden doors with iron bolts and keyholes.

"Ah, there you are," said a very familiar, and very welcome voice as they reached the end of the corridor.

As they finally reached **C**ourtroom Ten, two figures came into view in the dim torchlight. It was Remus and Daniel. Harriet's legs worked on autopilot and she ran forward to jump up and hugged Remus tight around the neck. He went rigid for a moment before he slowly relaxed and hugged Harriet back.

She let go and dropped to the floor before giving Daniel a similar jumping hug treatment. Daniel chuckled though it was a little forced. "It's going to be fine," he said softly, patting Harriet's back as he held her.

Harriet only responded by hugging him tighter.

"Good timing," Remus said checking his watch. "They start hearing witnesses in ten minutes."

"Who's first?" Ronnie asked.

Harriet finally let go of Daniel. She didn't have words anymore. Her nerves had taken them all away.

"I think Dora's going to be first," Remus said. "It seemed to me that they were going to call the girls alphabetically."

"Great, I would be last," Ronnie muttered.

"Well, better than being first," Dora retorted.

Ronnie shrugged. "Rather just get it over with."

"You're both going to be fine, dears," Mrs Flamel said, cupping each girls' cheeks and smiling down at them.

Dora smiled and nodded, but Ronnie went scarlet as she watched Mrs Flamel begin to fuss over Dora, straightening her collar and brushing off her shoulders. To Harriet's surprise, Daniel began to do the same to her, adjusting the collar of her turtleneck. Mrs Weasley pulled Ronnie over and took out a handkerchief from her purse and began rubbing Ronnie's nose.

"Mum! I told you that spot's just some concentrated freckles!" Ronnie fussed as Mrs Weasley scrubbed.

Harriet was just beginning to relax when the door to Courtroom Ten finally opened and another wizard in peacock blue robes stepped out.

"Call Miss Dora Flamel," the wizard said.

Dora's mother and father gave her an extra tight hug and Dora swallowed heading towards the open door. As she passed Harriet, Dora gave her a little half-attempt at a smile, gave her hand a squeeze, and headed into the room. The wizard shut the door with an ominous thump behind her.

They moved over and everyone sat on the benches around the door. Harriet wasted little time sitting between Daniel and Remus. She gave each a little look and at once snaked her arms through theirs and hugged them tight to her sides. They both responded by simply smiling down at her softly.

Dora's time in the courtroom seemed to drag on forever. Finally, the door opened again and Dora came out. She gave a sigh of relief and her face actually broke into a smile.

"Call Miss Hermione Granger," the wizard at the door said.

Hermione got up and Dora gave Hermione a good luck hug before crossing to her parents, hugging them too.

"How was it?" Ronnie asked, still nervous despite Dora's seeming good cheer.

"Honestly, it wasn't that bad," Dora said. "There was some weird little short woman who tried to grill me, but Madame Bones and Professor Dumbledore shut her up pretty quick."

"'Little short woman?'" Remus asked.

"Yeah, wearing a horrid pink cardigan and a bow in her hair."

Remus's lips turned back from his teeth briefly in a quick snarl, and Harriet felt him tense at the mention of whomever Dora had seen. Daniel reached over to pat Remus' shoulder to calm him. "Well, you couldn't expect Fudge to just let this slide without someone on the inside to cause trouble."

"The Minister's interfering with the case?" Mr O'Brien asked.

Daniel shrugged but his face was grim. "Not sure. But you can bet he wants someone on the inside. Of course he'd send Umbridge… jumped up little toad."

"You know, I thought she looked a bit like a toad…" Dora said.

Daniel laughed.

Hermione took even longer than Dora did. With Hermione's excellent memory, Harriet was sure that she was giving the court a complete minute by minute account of the events that night. Harriet shivered again and Daniel put an arm around her shoulder.

"Just be honest, Harriet," he said. "It's being run by Albus and Madam Bones. Amelia's fair and she'll hear you out."

Harriet nodded, swallowing. Finally, after almost a half an hour, the door opened and Hermione stepped out. She exhaled deeply and looked on the verge of collapse.

"Call Miss Harriet Potter," the wizard said.

Harriet got shakily to her feet and walked towards the door. She stole a glance back at everyone. The group all gave her encouraging smiles.

* * *

><p>The interior of the room did not encourage her. The walls were the same as the walls of the corridor, and also dimly lit by torches. The room was lined with benches on three sides, and every seat was full. Directly across from her, a stern looking woman with a monocle was looking down at her imperiously. Seated next to her was Professor Dumbledore who was smiling at her pleasantly.<p>

Next to Professor Dumbledore was a man whom Harriet did not recognize. He had a very kind face, bald on top with white hair and a fluffy beard which came down to the middle of his very portly belly. He looked rather like Buddha figurines Harriet had seen at Asian restaurants on occasions the Dursleys had been unable to find Harriet a babysitter. He was even dressed in an Asian fashion, wearing silky black robes tied with a sash around his wide middle, with a red undershirt.

Harriet returned her attention to the headmaster. The sight of Professor Dumbledore's warm smile did a great deal in calming Harriet's nerves. There was a great deal of muttering that broke out at Harriet's entrance. Harriet felt self-consciousness rise in her every time the reality that she was famous was forced upon her.

"Please have a seat, Miss Potter," the woman with the monocle said and Harriet finally saw the chair.

It was the most horrible chair she had ever seen. It was straight-backed and ebony black. The worst part were the chains hanging from the thick wooden arms. Harriet nervously approached the chair and slowly sat. She jumped as the chains rattled a little but did nothing else.

"Witness Interview Number Three," said the woman who Harriet now took to be Madam Amelia Bones. "Interview subject, Harriet Lily Potter."

There was a furious scribbling noise that didn't seem to match the movements of the scribe's quill. Harriet glanced to her left and saw another woman watching her.

The woman was not dressed in the garb of the other members of the court. Instead, she was wearing a bright green suit, with exceptionally long fingernails on her hands, horn-rimmed glasses, and poorly coloured, badly permed hair. Harriet felt another chill under the woman's piercing stare. She was looking at Harriet as though she had never seen anything so wonderful in her life. Beside her, a stack of parchment was set on the wooden bench, and an acid green quill was dancing across the stack of its own volition.

"You are, Harriet Lily Potter, of Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey?" Madam Bones asked.

"Oh, y-yes," Harriet stammered.

"And you were present during the night in question in which the defendant, Sirius Black, claims to have revealed the truth of his innocence and the guilt of one, Peter Pettigrew?"

"Yes, Miss," Harriet said.

She was sitting on the very edge of the seat, not wanting to get any closer to those chains than she had to.

"And what can you tell us about the events of that night?"

Harriet glanced at Professor Dumbledore. He gave no outward sign of acknowledgement, simply continued smiling with benign interest. Harriet took a breath.

"W-well, I… first I… my friends and I…"

"It's quite alright, Miss Potter," Madam Bones said. "We are aware from the other interviewees' testimony that you snuck out of bounds to visit one Rubeus Hagrid in the time proceeding the failed execution of his hippogriff. You are not on trial for that, we are simply attempting to put together the picture of what happened that night."

Harriet flushed and nodded.

"Yes, Miss," she said. "We snuck out to see Hagrid, because the auror wouldn't let us go see him."

Harriet took another deep breath and ploughed on. "We were at Hagrid's for about ten minutes when my friend Hermione discovered my other friend Ronnie's pet rat, Scabbers, at least we thought he was Scabbers at the time, hiding in one of Hagrid's milk-jugs. Then we saw Professor Dumbledore, the Minister, and the executioner and the committee member coming."

"What happened then?" Madam Bones asked.

"Well, we snuck out the back, and around the side of the cabin making our way back to the castle," Harriet went on. "We were about halfway back when Ronnie had to stop because Petti-er-Scabbers, was freaking out and trying to get away."

Harriet paused but no one spoke.

"So, I was wearing a hoodie, and so we put Scabbers in my pouch. And that's when Sirius attacked."

Harriet was distracted once more by the staring woman's quill.

"He attacked, you say?" asked a voice Harriet recognized. It was Umbridge, the Minister's senior undersecretary.

"Y-yes," Harriet stammered.

"Goodness, that's hardly the actions of an innocent man, is it?" Umbridge said.

Her voice sounded disapproving and sad, but her eyes did not match the tone. Instead, they were glancing towards the staring woman, looking smug. However, the other woman paid Umbridge no mind, continuing to look at Harriet with hunger.

Harriet looked back at Umbridge and noted that for the briefest of moments a look of disdain passed over her face. "Well, he was really trying to get to Pettigrew," Harriet said. "He'd been trying to all year. That's why he broke into the boys' dormitory earlier in the year instead of the girls. See, Pettigrew was pretending to be my friend Ronnie's pet rat, Scabbers. Well, my other friend Hermione's cat knew, we think he's part Kneazle, and he kept attacking Scabbers in our dorm."

"A cat attacking a rat, that is hardly an unnatural event," Umbridge said.

"Thank you, Dolores," Madam Bones said, curtly. "May I remind you, yet again, that members of the court are to wait for acknowledgement before speaking? And also that you've made that same point three times now."

"Oh yes, silly me, Amelia," Umbridge said, giving a sickly sweet giggle that prickled the hair on Harriet's neck.

"Go on, Miss Potter," Madam Bones said.

"Thank you," Harriet said. "Well, it was right after we moved Scabbers into the boys' dorm that Sirius broke in and went into the boys' dorm."

Madam Bones was contemplating Harriet carefully. Harriet felt as though she was hooked up to one of those lie-detectors that were always featured in Uncle Vernon's crime dramas.

"And why did Black not capture the supposed rat who he claims was Peter Pettigrew?"

"Well, just before that, Pettigrew, or Scabbers, bit himself and left a toe behind. Sirius said it was exactly like what Pettigrew did when escaping from him the day after…"

Harriet trailed off. A solemn wave of silence passed over the room.

"After my parents were killed. He said Pettigrew cut off his finger and left it behind after blowing apart the street."

"Well, that… that does follow, Madam Bones," said one of the court members.

Madam Bones nodded, still studying Harriet hard. "Yes… it does. Go on, Miss Potter."

Harriet took another steadying breath. "Well, going back to the night Sirius escaped, he got a hold of my hoodie and dragged me into the secret passage under the Whomping Willow. He then put Pettigrew in a cage and he well…" Harriet trailed off, self-consciously.

She didn't want to lie, or keep anything from the court, but she couldn't help but feel telling the court that Sirius had tied her up wouldn't help his case very much. She glanced at Professor Dumbledore again. He was leaning back in his chair, forming a steeple shape with his forefingers, slowly nodding his head in thought.

It happened then in only the briefest of moments. Professor Dumbledore gave one extra little short nod. To anyone else, Harriet was sure it would have looked as though Professor Dumbledore was falling asleep. But Harriet saw Professor Dumbledore's blue eyes looking into hers the entire time, and knew the nod had been to her.

"He tied my hands, and took me into the Shack with him," Harriet said lamely.

"By 'the Shack' you are referring to the building once known as the Shrieking Shack?" Madam Bones asked.

"Yes, sorry," Harriet said. "There he took me up to a room where he'd been… well… holding Erica Quoy, one of the American students…"

"And why was he holding Miss Quoy?" Madam Bones asked.

"Well… she discovered that h-he's secretly an animagus…" Harriet said. "And he was still trying to hide so… he said he didn't have a choice…"

More silence passed at this.

"That was when your friends arrived?" Madam Bones said, prompting Harriet on.

"Yes," Harriet said. "My friend Hermione's cat pushed the secret knot in the trunk of the Whomping Willow so they could get through into the tunnel. Sirius didn't expect them to follow. He expected them to go for help, so he was just going to leave Erica and me behind and leave with Pettigrew. Dora disarmed him from behind. Hermione let Erica and me out… then he got the drop on Dora and just then Daniel and Remus showed up."

"Mister Daniel Dusk and Remus Lupin?" Madam Bones asked.

"Yes, Miss," Harriet said. "Daniel and Remus explained about Remus being, well, a werewolf, and about Pettigrew… and then they forced Pettigrew to reveal himself…"

"I see," Madam Bones said. "And how exactly did they force him to do that?"

Harriet squinted a bit as she remembered. "They… well Pettigrew was in a cage… and the three, Daniel, Remus and Sirius, lined up with their wands. Daniel vanished the cage, and Remus and Sirius hit him with some kind of spell. The rat, Pettigrew, rose into the air and twisted around a lot, then he fell to the ground and there was this flash of light and Pettigrew just, grew out of the rat right there."

No one spoke after this. Many of the witches and wizards of the court were scribbling notes. Umbridge was giving Harriet a calculating, and not at all friendly look. Madam Bones was studying Harriet so imperiously and motionless that Harriet might have thought she'd been petrified.

"Is that all, Miss Potter?"

Harriet nodded.

"Well, that account tallies almost exactly with the others so far," a wizard Harriet didn't recognize spoke up.

"Yes," Madam Bones said. "Do you agree, Albus?"

"My dear lady, I do," Professor Dumbledore said. "But I believe it would still be wisest to hear Miss and Master Weasleys' testimonies. They witnessed the events as well, there's no reason not to hear what they have to say."

"You're right, Albus," Madam Bones said. "Very well, Miss Potter, you are dismissed."

Harriet blinked. She was being dismissed, just like that? She felt that she had more to say, so much more she should explain. How manic Sirius was when he had taken her and Erica captive. How desperate he was to prove his innocence. How he'd braved the sea to escape Azkaban to come to her rescue and save her from Pettigrew. How he'd risked death fighting a transformed werewolf to protect Harriet and her friends.

Harriet slowly rose and at once the wizard in peacock robes was standing beside her, gesturing to the door. Harriet followed and noticed as she did that the staring woman was getting up to leave as well.

"Leaving us so soon, Miss Skeeter?" Professor Dumbledore asked.

The woman turned a toothy smile on the headmaster. As she did, Harriet noted the woman had a number of golden teeth.

"Oh I'm afraid so, Albus. I have more than enough for my story at this point, I think. Miss Potter's testimony was _most_ enlightening," she said.

"Call Miss Rona—" Madam Bones paused as Professor Dumbledore put a hand on her arm and whispered in her ear. "Oh, sorry, yes, call Miss _Ronnie_ Weasley."

Harriet moved towards the door. As she did she felt like she was moving on auto-pilot. It couldn't really be over so soon, could it? The wizard opened the door and Harriet stepped out. The Skeeter woman followed after her and gave Harriet one more grin, as though Harriet had made all her Christmases come true at once, and hustled off down the corridor.

"Skeeter was in there?" Mr Weasley asked watching her walk away with narrowed eyes. "That can't mean anything good."

"Oh, you might be surprised," Daniel said, shrewdly.

Harriet gave Ronnie a hug before Ronnie followed the wizard into the room and the door shut.

"How did it go…?" Kieran asked in a concerned voice.

"It… it was okay…" Harriet said.

Hermione and Dora each put an arm around Harriet's shoulders and guided her over to the benches.

"I should have said more," Harriet sniffed. "But they just… said that my story matched Hermione's and Dora's well enough and I could go…"

Harriet sighed looking up at Daniel. "This isn't going to be over anytime soon, is it?"

Daniel's lips tightened and he was about to respond when a voice from the door cut him off.

"No, it is not, but for today I believe you performed admirably," said a gravely, but kind voice.

Harriet looked up and saw the portly man who had been sitting next to Professor Dumbledore. His eyes twinkled brightly.

"The point of the hearing was to check that all your stories match, and yet do not match."

"What do you mean?" Harriet asked.

"Well, if your stories are all too different, then your story isn't really credible," the man explained. "But if your stories are _too_ similar, word for word the same, then it's a sign that Sirius Confunded you all. So if you just went in and gave your story and answered any questions as candidly as possible then you did exactly what you needed to help clear Sirius' name."

Harriet blinked. The man smiled and turned to walk down the corridor as well. Everyone stared after the man. Most everyone was perplexed, but Daniel was almost reverent.

"G-General?" Daniel said, his voice full of astonishment.

"Yes, young man?" the old man asked, turning back to the group, smiling jovially. "And I have not been a general for _many_ years now," he chuckled.

"I just… sorry, I've read all your writings on command and leadership, it's an honour to meet you," Daniel went on. "I… never expected to see you here."

The old man's eyes twinkled brighter. "No, I don't suppose anyone did. Oh, and before I forget."

He turned to Harriet and after giving his hand a quick flourish, was holding a flower with a ring of white petals and a golden stamen. He handed it over to Harriet, bowing low. Harriet blushed and blinked taking it when she noticed something odd. The man had produced the flower from nowhere, and yet Harriet did not see his wand anywhere.

"In condolence of all you have lost, in honour of all you have achieved, and in the confidence of success in all your future endeavours," the man said as Harriet took the flower.

He bowed once more and turned, walking away again.

"Uh… who was that?" Dora asked.

"That… was a living legend," Daniel said cryptically.

Harriet was looking at her flower, still surprised. She wondered if he'd just used simple muggle 'magic.' Perhaps the flower had been hidden up his sleeve?

"That's…" Hermione said slowly, leaning over to look at the flower. "Oh, I know these flowers… it's called a white lotus.

"Or more commonly," Remus said, his eyes twinkling "the white water lily."

"Lily…" Harriet said finally looking up. The man was gone from sight already.

"Okay, but still, who was he, for real?" Dora asked.

Daniel smiled more. "One of the greatest wizard generals of all time. He's from Bhutan. Sixty years ago he helped defeat an uprising in the Western Kingdom of the Four Nations. He could have been made king but he refused and abdicated to his son and resigned. Like I said… he's a legend… General Jigme Dorji Wengshuk."


	4. The Surprise Present

**Chapter 4**

**The Surprise Present**

* * *

><p>"Well, it really was about time I made an appearance in this thing, wasn't it?"<p>

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

* * *

><p>"Happy Birthday!"<p>

"OW!"

Harriet sat up quickly in her bed, clutching the top of her head.

"Don't hit her, Ronnie!" Hermione chastised.

"She's a Quidditch player, she can take it," Ronnie said.

Dora laughed.

"What's going on?" Harriet asked looking around.

"Uh, it's your birthday, duh," Ronnie said standing up. "So wake up, the party's gonna start soon!"

Harriet blinked. "Party?"

"Yeah," Dora beamed. "Your first surprise birthday party."

Harriet flushed brightly. In all of the worries over the testimonies and Sirius' trial, she had completely forgotten all about her birthday.

"We invited a whole bunch of people," Hermione said, beaming too.

"Who?" Harriet asked.

"Well get cleaned up and dressed and you can find out," Dora said, her eyes twinkling.

"We're going to go help Mum set up some more," Ronnie said.

The three left and Harriet got up. She spent a while fussing over her hair and then ran back up the stairs to get dressed. She decided on Jess' old floral sundress and sandals for a festive, summery feeling and headed down the many flights of stairs to the kitchen.

No one was there. There was an odd rasping noise and Harriet turned to see the Weasley family owl, Errol, sitting on his perch. Hedwig was sitting next to him, nudging a dead mouse she must have caught the night before towards him.

"Good girl, Hedwig," Harriet said reaching up to rub the back of Hedwig's head gently.

Hedwig gave a little hoot and she tried to rub Errol's scruff too but he winced as if in pain. "Poor Errol," Harriet said.

Errol gave a very tired hoot and Harriet sighed before heading out into the back garden to find the rest of the Weasleys and her friends.

As she stepped out, Harriet gasped. The back garden had been completely transformed. The grass was trimmed and all the random items cleared away. The Weasleys had set up a marquee with more tables and chairs. There was the sharp smell of barbeque smoke and Harriet saw Charlie standing next to a barbeque pit, slowly turning chicken legs and ribs.

Ronnie, Dora, Ginny and Hermione were helping Mrs Weasley set out plates on the tables, while the boys were bringing over some more chairs. Mr Weasley and Percy were setting up a line of tables against the side of the house.

Harriet walked over to the marquee to pick up a stack of plates to start setting them up but Mrs Weasley quickly bustled over and took them from her hands. "No, no, dear," she said smiling. "This is your special day. You can sit and relax."

"O-okay," Harriet said, uncertainly.

She looked around a bit more as Mrs Weasley started setting the plates out. She was suddenly wondering just how many people the Weasleys had invited.

Not knowing what else to do and not wanting to be a nuisance, she walked over to the grill.

Charlie shut the lid as Harriet approached and smiled. "Give them a bit more and they should be ready," he said.

"O-oh good," Harriet said awkwardly.

Charlie chuckled. "Not that used to such big to-dos, eh?"

Harriet shook her head.

Charlie smiled wider. "Hey, well, got something to show you, 'round here," he said and gave a nod to the old Weasley family broom shed.

Harriet looked around and realized no one was looking. She followed Charlie and he smiled at her, opening the door. He reached inside and pulled out a parcel wrapped in burlap, shaking some spiders off of it.

"What's that?" she asked.

He grinned more. "For your friend, Kieran, actually," he said and pulled off the wrapping.

Harriet tilted her head looking at the contraption in his hands. It looked like a big golden bicycle kick-stand, with a foot pedal on it.

"For a broomstick," Charlie said taking out one of the brooms, and shaking even more spiders off of it. "You fit it on the broomstick like this," he said sliding the handle of the broom into a slot in the contraption. "Tighten down these nuts here to hold it on, then swing your leg over and put it into the foot pedal down there."

He showed Harriet how it fit. Harriet felt her heart lifting as she realized how it worked.

"And so when he comes in for a landing…" Charlie grinned and pressed a little lever on the base of the contraption and it sprung down.

"Yep, just land normally. It's got a spring in it so it doesn't make too jarring a landing," Charlie explained. "What do you think?"

Harriet bit her lip and without thinking gave Charlie a hug. "It's wonderful, he'll love it!" she said.

Charlie chuckled hugging her back. He quickly removed the device from the broom before rewrapping it and placing it back in the shed. They went back to the back garden, pausing to let a little gang of gnomes pass, being chased Crookshanks.

"Well, we're just about set. Our first guests should be arriving any minute now,' Mrs Weasley said.

"Bet you it's the Lovegoods," Ronnie said. Sure enough, there was a squeaking at the gate to the back garden.

"Hello Weasley family and friends!" called the cheerful voice of Xenophilius Lovegood as they rounded the corner of the house.

Ginny grinned and ran over giving her friend Luna a hug. Luna was dressed as eccentrically as ever, today wearing a lurid pink romper, yellow tights, and rainbow patterned legwarmers over purple combat boots.

"Hi, Luna," Harriet said cheerfully.

"Hello, Harriet. Happy birthday," Luna said in her dreamy voice. She was carrying a small package with a card, and Mr Lovegood was holding a large bowl.

"Oh, my, what have you brought for us, Xeno?" Mrs Weasley asked cheerfully, taking the bowl from his hands.

"Ah, infusion of Gurdyroot," Mr Lovegood said, proudly.

Mrs Weasley's smile faltered very briefly. "Oh, how nice," she said and hurried over, setting it on one of the tables Mr Weasley and Percy had set up.

The next group to arrive was made up of parents. Kieran's, Scott's, Dora's, and Hermione's parents, along with Marcus' father and Dora's little sister, Emma.

"Oh good, we did get here early then," Mrs O'Brien said looking around. "It's a wonderful garden you have, Molly."

"Oh thank you, Irene," Mrs Weasley said waving a dismissive hand.

"We stopped into the town for a spot of coffee and to meet up," Mrs Granger said warmly.

"Good morning!" Mr Weasley said hurrying over at the sight of the Grangers and Marcus' father.

"Well, we all brought some goodies as requested," Mrs McIntyre said.

"Hi, Emma," said Harriet, cheerfully.

To Harriet's surprise, instead of looking away or being bashful, Emma smiled as well. "Hello Harriet, happy birthday."

"Thanks, Emma," Harriet replied.

At that moment, Ginny waved over to Emma who continued to smile and walked over to join them.

The McIntyres had brought some smoked fish that Dobby had caught from the river at their estate, while Dora's family supplied entrees of French cuisine. Harriet was most excited to see treacle tarts, the same kind she had hidden underneath her floorboards, brought by the O'Briens. And finally Marcus' father had brought some sliced smoked ham.

"Anyone 'ome?" asked a friendly and all too familiar voice.

Harriet beamed seeing Hagrid stick his large, shaggy head around the corner of the house's second story.

"Welcome, Hagrid!" Mrs Weasley said.

Harriet smiled and ran up to hug Hagrid too. He blushed a little awkwardly but smiled. "Heh, oy now, still a teacher yeh know?" he said chuckling.

"Yeah, don't care," Harriet said.

Hagrid laughed more and put a big hand on her back in his version of hug.

Bit by bit, the rest of the guests arrived. Harriet couldn't' help feeling surprised to see Parvati, her twin sister Padma, and Lavender. They all gave the Weasleys' house apprehensive looks, but smiled warmly as they were greeted.

After another twenty minutes, the next group arrived. This time, it was Jeremy, Isabella, Isabella's little sister Carmina, along with a group of adults who must have been their parents. Jeremy's parents were very friendly. Jeremy looked much like his father, except he had his mother's mouth and ears. There was another boy with Jeremy who Harriet had seen at school but couldn't remember by name. Jeremy's parents introduced him as Kyle Conner, one of his cousins. Harriet wondered if he was also a blood wolf, but wasn't sure how to ask.

Meanwhile, it seemed only Isabella's mother had come. She was very pretty, like Isabella and Carmina, and all three were already the same height. Carmina and Kyle hurried off to talk with Ginny, Luna, and Emma. Harriet felt slightly awkward at this introduction. She had been sort of taken with Jeremy ever since meeting him in wolf-form after casting her Patronus to drive off the Dementors the night she and Hermione helped Sirius escape. It wasn't so much that he was in wolf form, as how he had written in the dirt that he thought the world was a better place with her in it, and how she gave people hope, even him.

As a result, she had felt a slight sense of jealousy towards Isabella ever since, as Jeremy and Isabella seemed to be such close friends. However, Harriet felt a little confused that deep down, what made her feel most awkward around Isabella wasn't that she was jealous over Jeremy. It was the way she couldn't help but notice how attractive Isabella was. And it wasn't jealousy over that either.

After the Owens and Martinezes, the next to arrive were Remus and Daniel. Despite having only seen them a few days ago, Harriet was still excited enough to give them running jump hugs, though this time she was smiling instead of terrified.

The next to arrive after Remus and Daniel were Dean and Seamus. Unlike Parvati and Lavender, they didn't seem at all bothered by the Weasley house and instead were eyeing the nearby Quidditch paddock with interest.

After Dean and Seamus came Basheera. Mrs Weasley looked as though she was going to have a nervous breakdown on the spot when Basheera's father introduced himself as a Prince. Parvati and Lavender meanwhile were going spare as Basheera's brothers came into view as well, much to Dean and Seamus' disgust.

The last to arrive was, of course, Neville. Neville's arrival caused the Gryffindors in particular to bite their tongues trying not to laugh. Neville arrived with his grandmother, who was wearing the very same outfit that Neville had forced his boggart of Professor Snape to wear during their first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson with Professor Lupin.

"Well, that looks like everyone," Mr Weasley said, cheerfully. "How's the grill coming, Charlie?"

"Oh we're all set," Charlie said.

"Then let's eat!"

Everyone grabbed plates and lined up at the pot-luck table. As the birthday girl, Harriet was ushered to the front of the line to go first. She paused as she took in all the food.

"Something wrong, dear?" Mrs Weasley asked.

"I just… don't know where to start," Harriet admitted awkwardly.

"Start at the beginning, take as much as you want, and when that's not enough go back up for more!" George said eagerly.

Everyone in the line laughed, even Harriet.

By the end of dinner, everyone was too full to move. They were all lounging in their chairs in the summer sun. The parents all talked merrily about the magical events of the day. The kids all talked about their summers so far.

"So, is it true?" Seamus asked Harriet. "Sirius Black's really innocent?"

"Well, yeah," Harriet said.

"Wow," Lavender chimed in. "It still must have been so scary being kidnapped like that."

"I don't know… if Black's story's true, one could find it romantic," Parvati said dreamily.

Her twin sister, Padma, rolled her eyes. Clearly Padma was not as inclined towards romance as Parvati was. Harriet then gave a glance in Charlie's direction before looking back at Parvati. Maybe Parvati would have some good tips on how to attract boys' attention. Then she took a glance at Fred who was chatting with George and the elder of Basheera's brothers. Maybe she didn't need Parvati's advice after all?

She puzzled after Fred for a bit. He had always been so much nicer to her than anyone else, even Ronnie. Yet, somehow, Harriet had never looked at him as much more than a brother she'd never had. Fred was always just, Fred, wasn't he? He was loud and rambunctious and always getting into trouble and neglecting his studies and always there for her.

But it wasn't just Fred. Kieran had always been there for her too. He'd injured his leg the year before trying to get to her after she fell from her broom. He was the one person in the world who knew her secret. Harriet's head started to swim as she looked back and forth between the two boys and suddenly both of them seemed completely unrecognizable to her.

"Here we are!"

Harriet was distracted from her whirling thoughts when Mrs Weasley came walking over to the group, floating Harriet's birthday cake before her. It was shaped like a Snitch and had "Happy Birthday, Harriet" on top in red icing. Harriet flushed and blew out the candles.

After that came the presents. She had to laugh as nearly everyone got her new items for Quidditch. Shin guards, goggles, scarves, and gloves. The exception was Dora, who had continued her theme of finding Harriet more of the Nancy Drew books she liked so much.

After the cake and presents, a lull came over the table once more and quiet conversation broke out as everyone was now completely full. Harriet was still having a hard time focusing on the conversation. She kept stealing little glances at Kieran and Fred. She decided to distract herself by turning her attention to the rest of the party.

Basheera's father was deep in conversation with Mr Weasley and Mr Lovegood about muggle-life in his home country. The mothers were all gathered around talking about home life and how Mrs Weasley kept her garden so neat. Mrs Weasley seemed deeply impressed at the muggle-tips that Mrs Granger was giving. Dora's mother, however, seemed a bit lost in this conversation. Dora rolled her eyes and leaned over to whisper to Harriet that her mother worked, and all their house-work was done by their family's three house-elves; Beauregard, Castillon, and Snickers.

This brought Harriet's attention back to the conversation going on at her own table. The topic had drifted to Quidditch and the World Cup. Ginny was attempting to explain the rules to Basheera's baffled looking younger brother. As discussion about the World Cup started taking over, and her interest in trying out her new Quidditch gear grew, Harriet found herself forgetting just how full she was.

"Hey, let's all play a match," Dean said, eagerly. "Seamus and I brought our brooms."

"Brilliant," Dora said getting up quickly.

Kieran smiled and got to his feet with the help of his stick. Harriet remembered the stand that Charlie had made and looked around for him. He didn't seem to be around. She bit her lip and the group of fourth years, along with Fred, George, Ginny, Luna, Emma, Isabella's little sister and Jeremy's cousin, all made their way to the Weasleys' Quidditch paddock.

They stepped through the little gate **in** the tall hedge and everyone paused. Harriet's mouth fell open. Charlie was already there. He was kneeling and fiddling with something on the ground. He looked up at the group and grinned. He stood and held up a broomstick that he had just finished fitting with the stand.

"Hey Kieran, mate," Charlie said, holding out the broomstick. "Thought you might like to try this on for size."

Kieran's jaw dropped. "But, but I can't, not with…" he patted his leg, trailing off.

Charlie beamed. "You can with this, mate. Here, I'll show you."

Charlie brought the broomstick over and held it in front of Kieran. "Here, stand on your good leg there, and swing the hurt one up and over."

Kieran's face was scarlet as he awkwardly did as told. He did wince briefly in pain as he swung the leg over, but it passed as soon as he lowered it again.

"Now, just stick your foot in that there," Charlie said pointing to the pedal.

Kieran stuck the toe of his trainer into the pedal which tightened itself down.

"Uh, how do I get my foot out again?"

"Just give your ankle a little twist and it should come loose."

Kieran tested and sure enough the straps loosened up at once and his foot could slide out.

"Perfect," Charlie said. "Now, just kick off. When you land, the spring in the stand will bend just enough so you don't slam into the ground, but also won't just collapse under you, hurting your leg more."

Kieran was speechless. He just kept staring at the stand, his mouth open.

"Uh, I think he said "kick off," mate," Marcus said, beaming.

Slowly, Kieran closed his mouth, took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and kicked off with his good leg. The broomstick shot into the air. Dean whooped and Scott jumped up and down, cheering his friend on as Kieran did a very wobbly circuit around the paddock. Dora was cheering too and Hermione was clearly fighting back tears of happiness.

"Well what the blazes is going on here?" Harriet heard Mr O'Brien's voice asking cheerfully.

"Aye, Quidditch fun and no one… invited… us…" Mrs O'Brien chimed in though she trailed off.

"Mum!" Kieran shouted from the broom, his face more alight with glee than Harriet had ever seen it. "Da! I'm doing it! I'm flying!"

Kieran's parents were speechless. "Kieran!" Mr O'Brien shouted moving past the gathered teens and staring blankly. "Kieran you're going to—"

"No I'm not, Dad!" Kieran shouted.

Mr O'Brien froze and Charlie put one of his muscular arms around Kieran's father's shoulder.

"He'll be fine," Charlie said. "Did it in secret. Mum was doing his laundry so got his measurements from his jeans."

"H-how… how…" Mrs O'Brien stammered.

Charlie beamed. "Well, got the idea from going down into the town. Saw a muggle bicycle leaning on something called a kick-stand. It just clicked. Anyway, my brother Bill owed me a favour, and in turn one of his goblin friends owed him a favour."

"That's Goblin made…?" Mr O'Brien asked. Harriet noted that he had tears welling up in his eyes too.

"Yep," Charlie said patting Mr O'Brien's shoulder.

"How can we ever thank you, or pay you?" Mrs O'Brien exclaimed, her eyes never leaving her son's gleeful face.

Charlie laughed. "I told you, it was a favour. We were out here flying about last week and couldn't stand seeing him and Scott there left out."

Charlie looked back up at Kieran who was flying higher and higher, and steadier and steadier. "Everyone should get to fly, yeah?"

"Yeah," Mr O'Brien said, tears pouring down his cheeks now.

"Yes," Mrs O'Brien sniffed and gave Charlie a hug so tight he grunted. "Everyone should get to fly."


	5. Travels

**Chapter 5**

**Travels**

* * *

><p>"Yes, by all means keep your friends close and your enemies closer. But note when you do so, how quickly those enemies sometimes become friends."<p>

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

* * *

><p>Daniel's voice carried through the open window to the side-garden.<p>

"_THE MINISTRY'S BLACK SPOT_

_Just when one thought the Ministry could not possibly make itself look worse, they continue to surprise us. While most of us thought that the Ministry could sink no lower after proving incapable of capturing the so-called 'mass murderer' Sirius Black, and also failing to execute a rogue hippogriff; now, even the events of 31 October 1981 are coming into question. The incompetence in handling these events is beginning to reveal the Ministry's skeletons. Needless to say, this particular journalist wonders just what it is the Ministry has been trying to hide for thirteen years._

_Everyone knows the story of Sirius Black. You-Know-Who's second in command, who killed twelve innocent muggles with a single curse, along with one of his childhood friends who cornered him after he was exposed when You-Know-Who fell." _

"Oh lordy," Charlie muttered. "Where's she going with this?"

"Shh," Remus hushed.

Harriet bit her lip, tilting her head to listen closer. She could sense something in Daniel's voice, but couldn't put her finger on the emotion.

"_Then, just a year ago, Sirius Black became the first prisoner to successfully escape from Azkaban prison. The only wizard to do so and avoid detection by the Dementors. He proceeded to terrorize the countryside, particularly Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was nearly cornered, again, but managed to escape under mysterious circumstance. No doubt conveniently rescued by "Death Eater comrades" (or so the Ministry will claim and yet provide no proof for) only to turn himself in a week later."_

Daniel paused his reading and chuckled. "'Death Eater comrades'? Dear, oh dear, they're recruiting _really_ young these days, aren't they?"

"To say the least," Remus chortled.

"_Now, as any discerning citizen of this country would, this reporter finds herself having to ask: why would a man facing the Dementor's Kiss readily turn himself over? _

_The roots of the ugliness go far back. All the way back to that fateful night thirteen years ago. And so we must ask ourselves: what has the Ministry been keeping from us all along? Well, as Special Correspondent, for the Daily Prophet, to the upcoming trial for Sirius Black; I, Rita Skeeter, can confirm that there are a great many things the Ministry has kept from us and covered up over the years."_

"_Cover_ _ups_," Percy interjected. "Paranoid rubbish."

"Shh," Mr Weasley hushed.

"_Suspicions were first aroused last August, following the bombing of the Daily Prophet headquarters in Diagon Alley. The Ministry was very quick to blame the incident on Sirius Black. But, as I myself was able to uncover, the bombing was not in fact the work of Sirius Black, but that of mass murderer, Solomon Kinney. Kinney, some may recall, also conducted an even deadlier bombing the summer of 1992, when he blew up a Muggle sporting stadium, killing hundreds and severely injuring Muggle-Born witch, Holly Cambridge."_

Harriet gasped. She remembered, as if it were yesterday, how Ronnie had been so upset over the news of Holly Cambridge's hospitalization. It was that which gave Mr Weasley the idea of flying them to Hogwarts instead of driving, resulting in their being pummelled by the Womping Willow. She also shivered at the mere memory of the bombing at Diagon Alley. That had been horrible enough, but it hadn't killed 'hundreds.' She had to press herself against the Burrow to remember she was safe, and so she could focus on the next bit of the article.

"_Kinney came to our country from America attempting to kidnap American refugees. Whether the bombing was in retaliation to Fudge's refusal to hand the children over, or the children were simply an excuse to get into the country to conduct his terror, is yet unknown. Regardless, the Ministry allowed Kinney to escape and as a result Kinney killed thirty people, including children, and very nearly yours truly._

_Now at the time, it was thought the Ministry pinned the blame on Sirius Black to distract from their failure with Solomon Kinney. They then focused exclusively on attempting to find Sirius Black. They even went so far as to claim that it was Kinney who helped Black escape in the first place. They also issued a proclamation permitting the Dementors of Azkaban to perform the Kiss upon Black on sight. Everything the Ministry did was to convince us all that Black was the real threat. Was this a mark of how dangerous Sirius Black is? Or, as this reporter discovered just last week, was the Ministry trying to silence Black from revealing the Ministry's dark secret?"_

"What dark secret?" Percy said, interrupting again. "All records of the trials are publicly available."

"Yes, all records of _trials_ are," Daniel said, darkly.

"_What secret could that be? You may wonder. Only that in the wake of You-Know-Who's fall, the Ministry sent dozens to Azkaban merely on the suspicion of having worked with You-Know-Who_, without trial.

_That's right, ladies and gentleman. Our Ministry sent dozens of its citizens to the world's most secure prison without a trial to determine the truth of their innocence or guilt. _

_As one member of the Wizengamot put it in an interview under conditions of anonymity:_

'_It's a travesty of justice! Sirius Black's case, whether he's found innocent or guilty, will shine a very bright light on this ugly chapter in our nation's history! Ask yourself what is more likely: Black breaking out of prison to avenge a wizard who by all counts is dead, or Black breaking out of Azkaban to clear his name and seek justice?'"_

"I wonder who that could have been?" Mr Weasley asked, thoughtfully.

"No idea," Daniel muttered.

"Knowing Skeeter, it was someone deep inside her own imagination," Remus said darkly.

"_So as we can see, clearly not all members of Magical Britain's highest court are toeing the Ministry's line. And who can blame them, when even the Girl Who Lived, Harriet Potter, has given testimony proclaiming Black's innocence? In fact, it has recently been made clear in a Ministry hearing, not only was Sirius Black childhood friends with Miss Potter's own father, but he was also made her godfather after her birth. At least according to one her friends who witnessed the events the night Sirius escaped the Dementor's Kiss when her testimony was questioned by the Minister's Senior Undersecretary, Dolores Umbridge. _

'_Well I mean, Sirius is her godfather, isn't he? He was right there with the Potters the whole time! What was the point of becoming a spy when the Potters would have just let him in if he knocked? Unless they made someone else their Secret-Keeper?'_

_Similar notions are being suggested by leaders of our educational behemoths. It is clear, whatever the verdict, that more people are aware of the Ministry's shortcomings than it expects. _

'_I know many people who seemed innocent turned out to be vile monsters in that time,' says a senior faculty member at Rathlin School of the Arts (and Magic). 'But it's time we accept that such was the exception, not the rule. There are far too many inconsistencies in the Sirius Black case. His actions surrounding his break-ins at Hogwarts over the last year, for instance. But more of that will come out in the trial-proper.'"_

"Crafty blighter," Daniel said. There was another pause and Harriet wondered if Daniel was referring to Professor Sherrod Howe. Before she could muse further, Remus reopened the conversation.

"Well, I'm far from Skeeter's biggest fan, but if there was someone to have on our side in swaying public opinion in Sirius' favour…" Remus mused.

Charlie chuckled. "_Senior faculty member at Rathlin_… my foot."

"Well, Howe does fit that description," Mr Weasley said.

"Typical Skeeter," Mr Weasley said. "Either way."

"Bit more typical than usual," Charlie said. "She's never been a big fan of the Ministry, but…"

"By the sounds of it, Skeeter's still smarting a bit after nearly being killed by a real mass murderer the Ministry let escape," Remus said shrewdly.

"Pretty much," Daniel said. "Which works for us at the moment."

"Now, now," Percy said. "We can't blame the entire Ministry for the failings of one Auror."

"The difficulty will come if she gets bored with this kind of attack," Remus said. "She'll change her tune in an instant if she thinks there's more money in going against Sirius."

Behind her, Harriet could hear the laugher of her friends. It was the Tuesday evening after Harriet's birthday, and Ginny was teaching them a game she learned from Rayne Prismere called Capture the Flag. It was one of the reasons Harriet was under the window in the first place.

Her objective, along with Ginny, Dora, Hermione, and Luna, was to protect their flag from be taken by the boys: Fred, George, Kieran, Scott and Marcus – while also searching for and successfully taking the boy's flag from their territory (the back garden and Quidditch paddock) to the girl's territory (the front gardens to mid-back). The first team to capture the other's flag won.

Harriet had been tasked with keeping an eye out for the boys sneaking into their territory to attempt to capture them and put them in "jail." Jail in this game came when a player entered the other team's territory and got tagged. Once in jail, players could be rescued by one of their own team members making it to the jail and hooking an arm in theirs. They could then walk back to their own side with immunity but could not go after the flag.

This was the reason Harriet hiding in the bushes under the kitchen window which allowed her to see people before they saw her, enabling her to make quick ambush attacks on any boys who snuck past her. And, she had to admit to herself, so she could eavesdrop on what Daniel, Mr. Weasley, Remus, Percy, and Charlie were talking about in the kitchen.

Daniel and Remus had showed up after work with the newest copy of _The Daily Prophet_ to discuss the article with Mr Weasley. Mr and Mrs Weasley had summarily sent the kids "outside to play."

"Hello."

Harriet jumped. Luna was crouched next to her. Harriet hadn't heard her approach.

"Oh, hi Luna, any sign?" Harriet asked, whispering as quietly as she could.

Luna shook her head, and whispered back. "No, Dora wants to see you. She has a plan."

"Okay," Harriet said and slowly the two girls snuck out of the bushes and over towards their headquarters behind the broom shed. Dora and Ginny were already there, looking grave.

"Bad news…" Dora said.

"What's that?" Harriet asked.

"They got Hermione," Ginny replied.

"How'd that happen?" Harriet asked.

"Sent her on a reconnaissance mission. Figured since she's started into lacrosse she'd be a bit quicker and lighter on her feet than she usually is," Dora grumbled.

Harriet blinked. "How do you two know about that?"

Ginny and Dora both gave Harriet the same exasperated look. "Harriet, she's my sister, and I love her to death, but we're not all as thick as Ronnie can be sometimes," Ginny said.

"Hey," Dora spat. "She's not thick, she's naïve."

Harriet snorted. "You're sticking up for Ronnie?" she asked.

"I'm not sure calling someone naïve counts as sticking up for someone," Luna said, examining a butterfly that had settled on her knee.

"Look, that's not important right now," Dora said. "The fact is, we need to do something bold to get the flag. Even if she got caught, Hermione's our fastest runner and our best planner. But I have a plan of my own. I'm really sure that the flag is hidden at the far end of the paddock. Two of us are going to need to go after Hermione, and two of us are going to need to go after the flag."

"Why not all of us go after the flag though?" Ginny asked.

"Well, we will, but I'm trying to think like Ronnie playing Wizard Chess," Dora said. "Remember Harriet, when we were going through the trials under the school? Ronnie sacrificed herself on the chess board."

"I'm not sure I'm following," Harriet said.

"Well, one of us is going to need to sacrifice herself," Dora said. "So, I'm going to sacrifice myself."

"What?" Ginny asked.

"You're going to let them catch you while Harriet frees Hermione and keeps the boys distracted while Ginny and I, as the smallest and quietest, make a move on the flag. After they get back to our side, Harriet and Hermione can make their own move on the flag if Ginny and I didn't get it back," Luna said, having coaxed the butterfly onto her forehead.

"Uh, yes," Dora said, blinking.

Harriet processed this. Dora was taller and a faster runner than Harriet was, and a better planner. Harriet wasn't sure that Dora for Hermione was the best trade. There was something else she thought she could use to their advantage.

"Well, how about this… what if… okay you know what? I need to be the bait."

"What?" Ginny asked.

"The trade. Dora, you spring Hermione, and I'll let myself get caught."

"Why you?" Dora asked now.

"Well, I'm—well—me," Harriet said. "Plus you're faster than me, Dora."

"Hmmm… well… that's true…" Dora contemplated.

"We don't have time to keep thinking about this," Ginny said. "If we don't make our move soon, the boys will instead. And this will leave our flag completely undefended until one of you gets back with Hermione."

"Good point, okay Harriet. You get caught and I'll spring Hermione," Dora agreed.

Harriet grinned. They got up and snuck to the border of the boys' territory. As they moved closer, Harriet's mind and imagination began to whirl as it often did. Who would catch her? Would it be Fred? She remembered the summer before last, the way he'd scooped her up so easily over his shoulder. Or maybe Kieran, who despite his leg was getting quite strong in the arms. She had a fleeting vision of Fred as a swashbuckling pirate spiriting her away. Then another of herself as a cunning thief who'd been foiled by the equally cunning detective Kieran. Finally, another mini-fantasy came to her out of the blue, a figure dark and mysterious, hooded and shadowy, grabbing her and stealing her away on unknown adventures.

Harriet shook her head. Where were those coming from? So rapidly and all so vivid to her. She could practically feel the strong hands on her arms. And she shouldn't be thinking about Kieran like that anyway, should she? He was her friend, wasn't he?

"Okay," Dora said as they reached the border. "On your marks…"

"Get set," Harriet chimed in, coming back to herself.

Ginny grinned. "Go!"

* * *

><p>By the following Friday, Harriet was having a hard time keeping any focus. She tried joining in games, but her enthusiasm was dwindling, even though the girls managed to win the first Capture the Flag game. Unfortunately, from Harriet's point of view, she'd been caught by Scott instead.<p>

Outside of games, all she could think about since Skeeter's article came out was Sirius' trial. Even though Remus had assured her later that things were looking up, Harriet felt so helpless and out of the loop that it was difficult to really believe any good news.

One thing that did cheer her up was when the owl post arrived that Friday with some exciting prizes for Marcus, and exciting news for the rest of them.

"I… I don't believe it…" Marcus said as he read his letters. "I just don't believe it!"

"Wha's'at?" Ronnie asked through a mouthful of eggs.

"I-it's…" Marcus held up two shiny tickets, one from each letter.

"Whoa," Dora said leaning forward and reading them. "Australia versus Portugal and Netherlands versus Germany. Primo seats too. What are they for?"

"Because of Lockhart," Marcus said, still staring at the letters. "For exposing the Wagga Wagga werewolf and that Dutch explorer who actually spent a year with Yetis."

"Good on you, mate," Kieran said smiling.

"But…" Marcus said running a hand through his hair. "It's just a ticket for me…"

"Don't be absurd, Marcus," Hermione said. "You have to accept. They don't just give those tickets out to anyone; and if anyone has something to be proud of it's you for bringing that charlatan to justice. Besides, we'll all be going to the final together."

Harriet and Ronnie exchanged an ever-suffering look. Ever since the truth came out about Lockhart, Hermione had been working extra hard to cover up the fact she'd been blind to most of his failings because of his good looks.

"Congratulations, dear," Mrs Weasley said serving Marcus another helping of eggs and bacon.

Marcus blushed but finally allowed himself a small smile.

"Well," Mrs Weasley said, setting down the large frying pan, "Arthur and I have some other good news for you all, too."

Mr Weasley set down his _Daily Prophet_ and grinned. "Yes, indeed."

"What's that?" Ronnie asked.

"Well, all of us parents have been having a bit of a chin-wag and decided that you all should go on a bit of an adventure until the final in a couple weeks," Mr Weasley said.

"Really?" Dora asked, interested.

"Yes, dear," Mrs Weasley said. "So starting tomorrow, Hermione, your parents have invited you all to stay for a week."

Hermione's eyes went wide and excitement spread across her face. "Really? Oh goodness! I have so much to show you all! Where I grew up, where I played as a child!"

"You played?" Ronnie asked, sceptically.

Hermione glowered.

"And your mother says that she's invited your cousin, Camille, to spend the week there as well."

Hermione's scowl vanished at once. "Ohmigosh, oh this is so wonderful! Oh you'll all love Camille!"

"She's the lacrosse player, right?" Harriet asked, giving Hermione a nudge with her foot under the table. She'd been on Hermione to finally come clean to Ronnie about her own interest in the sport since the Capture the Flag game.

"Y-yes," Hermione said evasively, nudging Harriet back irritably.

"And after that, you'll be going to Scott's for the following week," Mr Weasley said.

Scott didn't say anything. They all turned to look at him and saw him deeply engrossed in a letter.

"Scott?" Ginny asked.

"Hm?" he asked looking up.

"How's Atsuko?" Dora asked in a singsong.

"Oh, uh yeah," he muttered, going bright red. "She's fine. Wondering how the trial's going."

Harriet smiled a little. As with George and Erica now, and Percy and Penelope two summers ago, hardly a day had gone by this summer without Scott either receiving or sending a letter to Atsuko. Harriet had always thought there was something between Scott and Hermione. However, that changed a bit after Harriet had asked Kieran about it in private shortly after arriving at the Burrow. Kieran reminded Harriet that while Scott was fully engrossed in crazy ideas (at the time) about Sirius' innocence, it had been Atsuko who stuck by Scott the whole time, believed him when she had no real reason to, and helped him with his own mini-investigation when no one else would.

"Well dear," Mrs Weasley said. "After this coming week at Hermione's home, the week after you'll all be going back to your home."

"Oh great," Scott said, smiling broadly now. "Only Harriet's gotten to see it besides Kieran!"

Mr Weasley chuckled. "And apparently you will be having several other 'guests' as well," he said.

"I'm sorry?" Scott asked, curiously.

"Well, apparently now that Sirius is no longer a threat, the Ministry has returned its focus to Kinney, and decided that it's no longer safe for the American students he was after to all be concentrated in one place, even if that one place is Hogwarts. So they've spread them out around the country for safety during the summer holidays," Mr Weasley explained.

"Your parents agreed to take on ten, given the size of your home," Mrs Weasley said. "Maybe some of them are your friends?"

Mrs Weasley picked up another letter and read. "Alee Jameson."

Everyone stared.

"Alee Jameson, who's that?" Dora asked.

"No idea," Kieran said.

"Wasn't there a Nate Jameson? In Hufflepuff?" Hermione asked.

"Oh yeah," Scott said. "Wonder if he has a little sister."

Mrs Weasley continued. "Rachel Kane."

"Omigosh, Rachel!" Hermione squealed in delight.

"Jackson Lee."

"Jackson!" Kieran and Marcus said, exchanging a high-five.

"Sisters it seems, Taylor and Toni Middleton."

"Oh yeah, Toni's in my house, a year behind us," Scott said. "Her sister's in Hufflepuff a year ahead of us."

"Isn't Toni the one that boy Hyland, who works with Daniel, fancies?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, that's her," Scott said.

"Ari Miller."

"She's another Hufflepuff," Kieran said.

"Erica Quoy," Mrs Weasley said giving George a knowing smile.

"Erica!" Harriet said excitedly.

There was a spluttering as George choked on a piece of bacon. Fred slapped him hard on the back.

"Yes, and the McIntyres say you're invited for a day to take Erica into the village for a date," Mrs Weasley said before her eyebrows furrowed. "But _only_ for the day, George."

"Yeah, yeah," George muttered, ignoring his mother's stern look.

"Now, Molly," Mr Weasley said.

Mrs Weasley returned her attention to the letter, ignoring Mr Weasley in turn. "Peyton Shane."

"That'll be interesting," Marcus said.

"She was the one who made us "honorary refugees," right?" Dora asked.

"Yeah, that's her," Kieran confirmed. "She always seemed a bit—"

"Prickly," Dora said.

"Honorary refugees?" Ginny asked.

Harriet shifted uncomfortably. The topic of Ginny's first year at Hogwarts was never a comfortable one.

"Yeah, for um… stopping Riddle and the Basilisk and clearing their names…" Harriet said awkwardly.

"Oh…" Ginny said, poking at her eggs distractedly.

"Danielle Waterman."

The group all gave each other very uncomfortable looks at this as another awkward memory of their second year came back. Danielle had been one of the Slytherin girls they had attempted to impersonate to interrogate Draco Malfoy using Polyjuice Potion. By an unfortunate circumstance, their inside person, Kenley Tyler, had accidentally taken a hair from Danielle's cat, not Danielle herself, as a result Hermione had spent several weeks in the hospital wing having been turned into half a cat. She'd blamed Kenley for the incident for weeks until Kenley, and eventually Hermione herself, were petrified.

"Kelly Werner."

Ronnie groaned at this name.

"Oh hush, you love playing Wizard Chess with her," Hermione chastened, but smiled.

"Yeah…" Ronnie mumbled but smiled.

"Well still, that'll be lots of fun, too," Hermione said cheerfully.

"Yeah…" Ginny muttered.

"Oh yes, Ginny dear," Mrs Weasley said smiling. "I should also mention that Mr Lovegood generously offered for you to go spend next week at his home with Luna, and then the following week Luna will be coming to stay with us." Ginny beamed instantly.

* * *

><p>They were half-way into their first day at Hermione's. Harriet quite liked Hermione's house, despite how similar it looked to the Dursley's. Harriet also found she was growing fond of Mr and Mrs Granger. Harriet had to remind herself, that aside from looks it was the feel of a home that was most important, and this certainly didn't feel like the Dursley's at all.<p>

This was mostly because everyone smiled all the time. It was also a bit of an adventure, as Mrs Weasley had said, because instead of sleeping indoors, everyone was camped out in two muggle tents in the back garden. They spent the first night sitting around a torch telling scary stories.

Hermione's bedroom was not what Harriet had expected from what she knew of Hermione at Hogwarts. She had somehow expected Hermione's room to be spotless and organized. The main colour scheme was light blue walls with purple décor. She had several paintings of flowers and a single-bed with light-blue bedspread. She had a desk right under the window and several bookshelves full of both muggle and magical books.

What caught Harriet's attention most was the poster board of photographs. Some were magical, moving pictures of all of them at Hogwarts. But others were stationary, muggle pictures of Hermione before Hogwarts. Almost all of these featured Hermione and a girl Harriet had never seen before. The girl was very pretty for the ages the two were in the photographs, and somehow even in the pictures of her with missing baby teeth, the other girl's smiles seemed warm and radiant. Harriet puzzled as she noted that the pictures had years on them, and there were no pictures of Hermione and the other girl more recent than nineteen eighty-nine, two years before they had started at Hogwarts.

"Who's this?" Harriet asked.

"Oh," Hermione said. "That's my old friend, Fern."

Hermione crossed over from where she'd been showing Scott something to look at the board with Harriet. "She was my best friend until we were nine, and then she moved away to Paris with her mum."

Harriet nodded. Something about the pained look on Hermione's face told her that it probably wasn't a good idea to push the subject further.

"Everyone ready?" Mr Granger called from down the stairs. "Camille's flight's due in an hour."

They headed down and piled into the van Mr Granger had rented for the week. Hermione seemed as though she could barely contain her excitement the whole way. Now as they waited outside the terminal, Hermione was pacing back and forth, flustered. Camille's flight was due to arrive any minute. Security was everywhere. According to Mr Granger, only last March, several bombs had gone off on one of the airport's runways, but no one had been hurt.

"It's going to be fine," Dora said.

"I know but…" Hermione paced more. She froze looking around as the large group of passengers came walking towards them and gasped. "She's here!"

Everyone looked around and Hermione hurried off excitedly into the group. She emerged a moment later, beaming and laughing, walking arm in arm with another girl.

Harriet blinked twice. If she didn't know better, there were two Hermione's walking towards them. One with bushy hair, prominent front teeth, and dressed casually in a black shirt and jeans. The second had her hair done in a short pixie cut, and was wearing a comfortable looking short-sleeved eyelet top and lavender jeans. By the looks on everyone's faces, Harriet wasn't the only one who was stunned at the resemblance.

"Bonjour!" Camille said cheerfully as she and Hermione reached the group.

"H-Hi," Marcus said, still a bit transfixed. Kieran elbowed him.

Mr and Mrs Granger hugged Camille before making introductions. Harriet was slowly grounded by the realization that however much Camille looked like Hermione, she certainly did not act like her. She was much more outgoing, and Harriet flushed, when in greeting Camille leaned in and touched a cheek to each of Harriet's and gave the air a little kiss with each touch. Harriet noted that her accent was not as thick as Mr Flamel's.

"So, you all go to Hogwarts?" she asked, smiling as they moved to the cars.

"Oui," Dora replied. "Nous sommes à notre quatrième année."

Camille looked very excited. "Parlez-vous français?"

"Uh, what?" Ronnie asked.

Dora rolled her eyes. "I said we're in our fourth year."

"Oh," Ronnie muttered, then tilted her head. "Wait, when did you learn French?"

Dora gave Ronnie an exasperated look. "My _dad_ is French!"

"Oh yeah," Ronnie said looking very embarrassed now.

"You are Ronnie, non?" Camille asked. "You are the one who enjoys football? Hermione writes about you all the time."

"Oh, y-yeah," Ronnie replied. "This is my third year since I started."

"It is a wonderful sport. Too bad the magical world is not more open to Muggle sport."

"Do you play?" Marcus asked, interested.

"Non. Well, as a little girl I did play, but now in the summers I play lacrosse. You?"

"Oh yeah," he said smiling. "In fact, I'm leading a sort of initiative at our school to get Muggle sports like football and lacrosse into Hogwarts. Just Quidditch is a bit boring isn't it?"

"Hey!" Harriet and Dora spat.

Marcus rolled his eyes. "I like Quidditch, I just like playing other sports more."

Ronnie paused and looked at Hermione. "Weren't you saying something about lacrosse last year?"

"Oh, y-yeah," Hermione said, awkwardly.

"Hmmm, imagine that," Camille said, giving Hermione a knowing glance.

* * *

><p>"So, this is lacrosse?" Ronnie asked as they sat in the small metal bleachers next to the pitch.<p>

It was halfway through their week at Hermione's. Camille had seen an advertisement for a local lacrosse meet-up and fun match at a nearby park and asked if they would like to go and see what the sport was all about. Everyone agreed, with the exception of Marcus, who had gone with his dad to see the first of the two matches he'd been invited to.

"Why did no one tell me about this sport before?" Dora asked as the girls stretched and practiced getting ready for the match to commence.

Kieran chuckled and bumped Dora's shoulder. Dora rolled her eyes and bumped his back.

"Where's Hermione?" Ronnie asked.

"Uh, said she had to help Camille change," Scott said, evasively.

Ronnie raised an eyebrow. "What's so involved about those kits you need help getting into them?"

Dora gave Harriet a little look. She tossed her shoulder length hair and gave Harriet a little smile as she leaned back on the bench behind them and stretched out her legs on the bench in front of them.

"Whatcha think? Could I pull off one of those kits?" Dora asked Harriet, nodding to the girls on the pitch.

As it was an informal match, there was no real uniformity to the kits. The general theme was sleeveless tops, athletic skorts of varying styles and colours, athletic socks, and trainers.

Harriet looked Dora up and down and tried to imagine her in such an outfit. However, the way Dora was reclining, her legs stretched out straight in front of her and held together and her arms behind her back, put Harriet in mind of something else. Unbidden, she imagined ropes around Dora's hands, ankles, and knees, and a tight band of cloth over her mouth. Harriet blinked and felt herself blush furiously in spite of her best efforts. She suddenly felt, for want of a better word, very odd all over.

"Y-yeah, I think so," Harriet said.

Dora's grin widened and she turned her attention back to the pitch. Ronnie, meanwhile, was looking at the pitch with mounting dislike.

"Hmph, you playing a sport like that? Sure your daddy would let you play rough and tumble muggle sports? Might put a hair out of place," she said, with more than a hint of bitterness in her tone.

Dora turned and looked at Ronnie. For the first time ever that Harriet could remember, Dora looked genuinely speechless.

Dora opened her mouth to retort, but didn't get a chance. Kieran pointed and distracted everyone. "Here comes Camille, and Hermione."

Everyone looked. Camille and Hermione were walking out onto the pitch, both wearing matching lacrosse kits and carrying sticks. Harriet stole a glance at Ronnie. Ronnie looked as though someone had punched her.

"Hermione's… playing?" she asked.

"Well yeah," Dora snapped, bitterly. "Last one crosses the finish line there."

Ronnie winced and looked uncharacteristically ashamed of herself. Kieran and Harriet both scowled at Dora.

"Dora!" Harriet snapped and gave Dora's shoulder a little backhand.

Dora finally looked a little apologetic and grimaced.

"Sorry, Ronnie," she said.

Ronnie looked as though she was going to say something but instead sighed and returned her attention to the pitch, watching Camille and Hermione begin to practice.

"She's good…" Ronnie said quietly as the two practiced.

"Yeah, she is," Scott said, giving Ronnie a sympathetic look.

Harriet didn't say anything. The thoughts that had gone through her mind after Dora had asked her how she'd look in a lacrosse kit were still there, and she was trying desperately to push them out. If for nothing else than to make the odd sensation that seemed to flow from her middle to her knees and back go away.

"How come she never told me?" Ronnie asked. She looked around the group. "She clearly told all of you."

Harriet sighed and finally spoke up. "She didn't want you to know because she thought you'd make fun of her."

"Oh…" Ronnie said.

Harriet grimaced, feeling even worse now for making Ronnie feel worse.

"I think they're about to start," Kieran said.

The girls were all heading over to the referees who were handing out coloured mesh tops. Hermione and Camille both came away with red tops, the other team in yellow.

"Hah, Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff," Scott pointed out.

Harriet and Kieran laughed. Even Dora and Ronnie broke little smiles. They settled in to watch as the referee finally blew the whistle.

* * *

><p>Thursday and Friday were quite pleasant, except for Dora and Ronnie who were still acting very cool towards each other. Hermione didn't seem to notice. Ronnie had been quite complimentary to her on her talents at lacrosse and of lacrosse in general, which put Hermione in a very good mood.<p>

Marcus returned late Thursday night. Now it was Friday afternoon and they were lounging in the back garden, watching clouds pass over head while Marcus filled them in. It made Harriet even more excited than she already was for the final match on the twenty-second.

"Yeah, Australia still lost, but I'm more excited for the Netherlands match next week," he said smiling.

"Family heritage thing?" Dora asked.

"Only a little," Marcus chuckled.

"Mmmmm we should get our swimsuits out," Dora said as a warm ray of sunshine fell over them.

"Ohhhh d'accord," Camille said.

"Ugh, I'd burn in an instant," Ronnie said. "I'm probably sunburned already…"

"Well, some of us didn't have swimsuits to pack," Harriet admitted awkwardly.

"I have a couple you could borrow," Hermione said.

"A couple?" Ronnie laughed.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Just then, there was a soft chiming noise.

"I think that was your doorbell," Scott said, propping himself up on his elbows.

"Strange…" Hermione said, nervously. They were home alone at the moment, Mr and Mrs Granger were at work.

There was another soft chime, and then another.

"Maybe it's a package…?" Kieran asked.

They slowly got up. The bell rang a fourth time. "Someone's kinda insistent," Kieran said.

"Well, let's all go as a group," Dora said. "And we all have our wands. If it's a burglar or something there are provisions in the restrictions on underage magic or whatever for using magic if we're in danger."

"Good point," Marcus said.

They all drew their wands and headed into the house. The doorbell rang again as Marcus moved into the sitting room and peeked out the window which afforded a clear view of the front door.

"It's a girl… looks our age…" he trailed off. "Wow…"

"What?" Hermione asked.

Hermione stepped up behind Marcus and peeked out too. She gasped and actually dropped her wand before she spun and ran to the front door. She fumbled with the locks in her haste and flung the door open.

"Fern?!" Harriet heard Hermione ask from the doorway.

"H-hi," Harriet heard the new-comer reply.

Harriet stepped back into the entry way. She saw at once why Marcus had said "wow." The girl was very pretty, despite seeming a bit dishevelled. Her hair was dark brown, very straight, cut in a short bob with a thick row of fringe that came down to her eyebrows. Her eyes were blue, she had a very straight, button nose, and her lips seemed naturally disposed to smile.

The rest of the girl was very thin, and she was dressed in a silky white blouse, black flared skirt that looked to be leather and silver high heeled sandals. Harriet blinked. She didn't know much, but that certainly didn't seem an outfit a girl their age just walked around in. Harriet glanced at the rest. Everyone else looked just as dumbfounded as Harriet felt, with the exception of Kieran. While everyone else was taking in the girl's clothes and figure, Kieran was looking her right in the eyes as though she was a ghost.

"Fern…" Hermione said. "What… what are you doing here…? Why are you…?"

It clicked to Harriet now. This must be Fern, Hermione's long lost best friend.

Fern smiled. "Well, I was back in town visiting dad and decided to see if you still lived here."

"Dressed like that?" Ronnie asked.

Fern looked down at herself. "Oh yeah, I just got in from the plane and dropped my stuff off at the house and hurried over."

Fern looked around the street and smiled. "Has it only been five years…?"

Scott, Marcus, Harriet, and Dora all exchanged a look. There was clearly something fishy about Fern's story, but Harriet couldn't put her finger on it. Hermione however didn't seem to notice. Instead, she rushed forward and hugged Fern as tightly as she could.

"I… I thought I'd never see you again," Hermione said softly, still sounding shocked.

"Me… me either…" Fern said and finally hugged Hermione back. Fern's composure broke a little and she hugged Hermione tighter.

"Maybe… maybe we should give you two a moment?" Dora suggested.

"Uh, good idea," Marcus said.

The rest of the group all turned to make their way back out into the garden, except Kieran. He was still looking at Fern as though he'd been turned to stone.

Scott grabbed Kieran's arm and began pulling him away. Kieran came to his senses and suddenly looked quite embarrassed as he followed the rest.

"Are you alright, mate?" Marcus asked Kieran, studying him closely.

"I've seen her before… I know it… but I can't think of where!" Kieran said. Harriet was now reminded of Scott's manic moments while trying to figure out the truth behind Sirius' actions the previous year.

"Who the hell is she?" Dora asked, looking sceptical. "Just shows up out of the blue with that story?"

"Well," Harriet said, remembering. "Hermione said earlier this week that she and Fern were friends until they were nine, and then Fern moved away to Paris with her mum."

"Only her mum?" Marcus asked.

"I think so."

"But, she's here, visiting her dad?" Marcus was looking back at the house, concerned.

"What is it?" Harriet asked.

"Guys, I don't think she's visiting her dad," Marcus said shrewdly. "I think she ran away…"

"From Paris?" Dora asked, sceptically.

"She is old enough to fly on her own," Camille chimed in. "I did."

Camille hugged her chest, rubbing her upper arms. "Hermione used to write about Fern all the time when we were little and we would send each other letters. They were inseparable. It tore Hermione up inside when Fern had to leave. None of her letters were the same again until…" Camille trailed off, giving them all a little smile. "Until she met you."

They sat on the big blanket. It was then that Scott paused and lifted up his wand.

"Harriet?"

"Yeah?"

"How old was Fern when she moved away, did Hermione say?"

"Um… nine I think?"

Scott didn't answer right away.

"Why?" Dora asked.

"Did Hermione ever say anything about Fern being—you know—magical?"

"I don't think so…" Harriet said. "She's never really mentioned her at all until now."

"No… that's weird…" Ronnie said.

"Non, she never said anything to me about it," Camille said.

Scott contemplated more. "I… I think Fern's a witch."

"What makes you think that?" Kieran asked.

"Who else would see a bunch of people meeting her at the door all holding strange looking wooden sticks and not question it at all?"

"Well… I do not know about that. But maybe we should probably put them all away just in case?" Camille said cautiously.

There was general murmurs of assent and everyone stuck their wands back in their pockets. Harriet was suddenly feeling worried. If Fern was a muggle, and she discovered their wands, that would be a breach of the Statute of Secrecy. That would mean the Ministry would turn up. And if the Ministry turned up, they would probably turn Fern over.

The door to the house finally opened and Hermione and Fern came out. Harriet noted that Fern was now wearing one of Hermione's t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants. She had also washed off a great deal of make-up and eye-liner, and now looked much more like a normal, teenage girl. In fact she seemed much more at ease dressed like this than before.

"Sorry for barging in on everyone like that," Fern said.

"It's okay," Marcus said.

"So, Fern, these are my friends from school, who're visiting for the summer, plus my cousin Camille," Hermione said smiling.

Fern smiled more as she looked at Camille.

"Nice to meet you finally," Fern said.

"You as well," Camille replied cheerfully.

"Hermione used to talk about you _all_ the time, how jealous she was that you were living in France."

Camille laughed. "Oh, did she?" she asked giving Hermione another sly look.

Hermione blushed and stuck out her tongue at Camille.

"Well, you were the one who I always got to hear about in every letter," Camille said. "So there is that."

"And this is Kieran O'Brien, Scott McIntyre, Marcus Van Der Lakk, Dora Flamel, Ronnie Weasley, and Harriet Potter."

It happened in an instant. Harriet, who was used to this, spotted it at once. For the briefest of moments, Fern's eyes widened at the sound of Harriet's name. The clear sign of recognition. The little look that everyone in the magical world got when they heard Harriet's name. So it seemed Scott was on to something. No Muggle who Harriet had ever met had that same look.

"Nice to meet you all," Fern said. She now sounded totally casual. "I'm Fern, Fern Mantovani."

"Nice to meet you too, Fern," Ronnie said.

"Just wait till Mum and Dad get home," Hermione said, beaming.

"Oh, how soon will they be home?" Fern asked.

"Oh another hour or so," Hermione said.

"Ah, okay," Fern said. "I mean I don't want to impose."

"Oh nonsense," Hermione said. "They'll love to see you again!"

"Well, I did miss them a lot too," Fern said brushing back some of her hair.

"So how come you moved to Paris?" Ronnie asked.

"Mum's work," Fern said quickly. "She's a fashion consultant."

"Fashion consultant?" Ronnie asked.

"Yeah, she goes along to photo-shoots, makes sure the photographers and such are doing their job, makes sure the costuming is correct, stuff like that."

"That sounds more like an agent," Dora said, her eyebrows raised.

"Oh, yeah, well they're not totally dissimilar," Fern said quickly.

"So where do you go to school?" Marcus asked.

"Oh, just a little arts school," Fern said. She started to explain more when there was the sound of someone calling Hermione's name.

"Oh, sounds like Mum's home early!" Hermione said.

She got up eagerly and was heading up towards the house when Hermione's mother appeared in the doorway. She had a very grim expression on her face.

"Mum?" Hermione asked. "Something wrong?"

Mrs Granger sighed. "Oh Hermione dear, it's about your old friend, Fern."

"What?" Hermione asked.

Harriet and the rest turned and looked at Fern, who had a look of horror on her face.

"We just had a call from her mother. Apparently Fern has gone missing," Mrs Granger said. "Her mother says that Fern was supposed to be in London for a photo-shoot this weekend but apparently Fern stole the tickets and her mother's credit card and ran away to the airport. They don't know if her father's involved yet but the police have been to his house and said there was no sign of her being there."

"…Missing…" Hermione said.

Everyone was continuing to stare at Fern. Fern's face was frozen, but her whole body was trembling. "Yes, so her mother called us just in case…"

Mrs Granger trailed off as she finally saw Fern in their midst.

"Fern!" Mrs Granger exclaimed hurrying over. "What on earth are you doing here?! Do you have any idea how worried your mother is?"

Fern didn't respond. She was trembling head to toe now, hugging her legs tight to her chest.

"…Fern…?" Mrs Granger asked, her expression was softening rapidly. "Fern, sweetie, what's wrong?"

"Can't go back," Fern said shaking her head. "Can't… not going…"

"But, Fern dear, it's your mother…"

"Don't care. Not going," Fern said, shaking her head more. She was starting to rock.

Mrs Granger knelt and took Fern's hands. "Come on, love. Let's… let's get you inside and get you some tea, okay?"

"Can't take it anymore," Fern said. She choked back a sob.

Mrs Granger pulled Fern up to her feet. Fern didn't resist, but she didn't seem like she was just going along with it either.

"I'm not her stupid doll," Fern said as Mrs Granger guided Fern towards the house.

She didn't seem to be speaking to anyone in particular, it was as though all the thoughts in her head were tumbling out of her mouth at once. Her voice had regressed too by the sound of it. Her voice had become higher pitched and nasally. If Harriet hadn't seen Fern speaking, she would have sworn it was an eight or nine year old girl speaking instead.

"Keep your stupid poise… your stupid make-up and your stupid stories about your stupid missed stupid oppor-stupid-tunities…"

"It's okay dear," Mrs Granger kept saying, holding Fern tight to her side.

Hermione meanwhile, stood frozen in place as she watched her mother guide her childhood best friend up the stairs and back into the house.

"Hermione…?" Marcus asked.

Hermione didn't move.

"Hermione…?" Ronnie asked now.

Harriet got up and moved towards her friend. Hermione didn't turn, even when Harriet put a hand on her shoulder. Harriet stepped in front of Hermione and was shocked at what she saw. Hermione's face wasn't shocked, or sad, as Harriet expected. Instead, her face was full of an anger that Harriet had never seen before.

"Hermione?" Harriet asked.

Hermione didn't look at her but her hands clenched into fists. "I'll get her for this… I'll get her…"

"Get who?" Dora asked.

Hermione snorted with anger. "Her. She took Fern away. I'll get her mother for this… if it's the last thing I do… She'll pay for what she's done to my friend…"


	6. Back to the Manor

**Chapter 6**

**Back to the Manor**

* * *

><p>"It is one of life's great conundrums. How can we trust ourselves, if we cannot trust our friends? And how can our friends trust us, if we can't trust ourselves?"<p>

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

* * *

><p>Harriet was floating. The room was warm and dark. The only light and sound was coming from a nearby crackling fireplace. She was drifting in the air, high above the scene below, inches from the ceiling, not a care in the world.<p>

"There is a bit more in the bottle, My Lord, if you're still hungry?"

Harriet jumped. She'd been vaguely aware of someone speaking before, but now she felt her attention being irresistibly drawn to the conversation below.

"Later," said another voice.

The two voices were distinct. One was timid, squeaky, and fearful. The other was also high-pitched, but it was forceful and commanding, and made the hairs on Harriet's neck tingle.

She slowly turned over in the air. There was a reedy, thin little man with loose skin and odd balding patches. Harriet felt a twinge of rage and shock at the sight. It was Pettigrew.

"Move me closer to the fire, Wormtail," commanded the second voice.

Harriet knew that voice as well. Yet, she couldn't place it. It was as if her mind was purposefully blocking out the source. Whatever rage she'd felt at seeing Wormtail again, it was immediately replaced by cold fear.

Wormtail stepped forward and pushed the big arm chair closer to the fire. The voice must have come from there, but Harriet couldn't see the speaker.

"Where is Nagini?" asked the cold voice.

"I—I don't know, My Lord. She set out to explore the house, I think."

"You will milk her before we retire, Wormtail. I will need feeding during the night. The journey has tired me greatly."

Harriet shivered. She wanted to leave. She wanted to run away. But she was stuck. Trapped, floating in mid-air over the terrible scene below.

"My Lord, may I ask how long we are going to stay here?"

Harriet gasped, and immediately clamped her mouth shut. However, no one seemed to hear her. She knew that voice now. She knew who it was. Wormtail was speaking with Lord Voldemort. But it couldn't be; it just couldn't be.

"A week, perhaps longer. The place is moderately comfortable, and the plan cannot proceed yet. It would be foolish to act before the Quidditch World Cup is over."

"The—the Quidditch World Cup, My Lord? Forgive me, but – I do not understand – why should we wait until the World Cup is over?"

Harriet struggled. She was dreaming. She had to be dreaming. Her scar was beginning to prickle. She had to wake up. She wanted to wake up.

"Because, fool, at this very moment wizards are pouring into the country from all over the world, and every meddler from the Ministry will be on duty, on the watch for signs of unusual activity, checking and double checking identities. Furthermore, there is still that inconvenient bomber on the loose, you tell me."

"Yes, Kinney, My Lord, Solomon Kinney."

"Yes… Kinney… under any other circumstance he could prove a useful ally, but now he has the Ministry even more on edge than they would normally be. They will expect him to make a move at the World Cup. Until that is finally over, we cannot risk anything that might expose us. And so, we must wait."

Harriet tried to move herself further. She was still stuck in place. Forced to continue listening in against her will. Voldemort had returned. She had to tell someone. She had to escape.

"Your Lordship is still determined then?"

"Certainly, I am determined, Wormtail."

Voldemort's voice had turned even more menacing now. Wormtail recoiled from the chair, as though Voldemort had struck him. He shuffled away, wringing his hands, thinking hard.

"It could be done without Harriet Potter, My Lord."

Harriet froze at the sound of her name. Voldemort had something planned for her? To kill her?

"Without Harriet Potter? I see…"

"My Lord! I do not say this out of concern for the girl!" Wormtail squeaked. "The girl means nothing to me! Nothing at all! It is merely that if we were to use another witch or wizard – any witch or wizard – it could be done so much more quickly! If you allowed me to leave you for a short while – you know I can disguise myself most effectively – I could be back in as little as two days with a suitable person!"

"FOOL!" Voldemort cried before breaking down into splutters and hacking coughs from the effort of the yell. "Did Bertha Jorkins' final words mean nothing to you? Your old _friend_ Sirius Black has turned himself in and told the entire wizarding world that you are still alive."

"But, but my Lord, who would believe—"

"Dumbledore would!" Voldemort hissed, his voice more hoarse than it was before. "Sherrod Howe, Johnathan Morrisey, that pathetic dog, Stratton… he's rallied all of them to his side! You will remain here, by my side, until the task is complete! However grateful I am that you managed to find me and return me to this wretched form, I do not trust you the slightest to make decisions for yourself anymore. You were _lucky_ when you found Bertha Jorkins and brought her to me."

A long silence followed Voldemort's reprimand. Wormtail was cowering in a corner now. He reminded Harriet of how he had looked as a rat, trapped inside the cage that Sirius had put him in.

"I have my reasons for using the girl…" Voldemort continued. "As I have explained to you. I will use no other. I have waited thirteen years… I can wait a few months longer. Yes, as you have pointed out, the girl is well protected. Far better than even she knows. But my plan will be effective, I am sure of it. All that will be required is a little more courage from you. And it is courage that you will find, lest you desire to feel my wrath!"

"Yes!" Wormtail squeaked. "Yes! I'm sorry My Lord, you are right as always, My Lord. But, My Lord, Bertha Jorkins disappearance will not go unnoticed for long! And if we proceed and I curse—"

"If?" Voldemort said cutting Wormtail off. "_If?_ If you follow the plan, Wormtail, the Ministry will never need know that another person has disappeared. You will do it quietly and without fuss. Believe me, Wormtail, had I the option of doing it myself, I would. I'm not asking you to do it alone, however. By that time my _faithful_ servant will have re-joined us."

"But I am a faithful servant!" Wormtail said, though he cringed, clearly regretting his boldness.

"I need someone with brains for this, Wormtail. Someone with cunning and talent and unwavering loyalty. You fulfil none of those requirements. As always, it was lucky chance and your complete devotion to your own wretched hide that led you to me."

"But I brought—"

"You brought Bertha Jorkins to me because you had no other idea of what to do with her, Wormtail! You brought her to me hoping I would do what your cowardly, pitiful excuse for a Death Eater could not."

"No, My Lord—"

"LIAR!" Voldemort cried. "Do not lie to me, Wormtail! Don't ever lie to me! I can always tell! You knew she could not live having seen you, and yet you did not have the courage to do what was necessary yourself. It was I who surmised that she would have vital information we could use before disposing of her!"

There was another silence. Wormtail was pulling on his tufts of remaining hair. He looked on the verge of tears. Floating above, Harriet was too mesmerized to even want to escape anymore.

"However…" Voldemort continued. "Her information was valuable. Invaluable, even. And it would _not_ have been obtained if not for you, however ill-conceived. For that… you will have a reward, Wormtail. I will allow you to perform a task for me that is utterly essential. And one that many of my followers would give their right hands to perform."

"Really? My Lord? What?" Wormtail asked. He looked torn between relief and worry.

"Now, now, Wormtail. No spoiling the surprise. Your task will be the final, and when done, you will have proved yourself even more useful than Bertha Jorkins."

"Y-you mean, you're going to kill me too!" Wormtail cringed again, his eyes manic. In that moment, Harriet felt another paralyzing pang of fear. Even when faced with the prospect of Lord Voldemort murdering him, Wormtail would not flee.

"Wormtail… Wormtail… why would I kill you? I only killed Bertha because she was utterly useless to me after my questioning. Just a shell of a person, mentally and physically. One could even call it an act of mercy, wouldn't you agree?"

"But we… we… we could have modified her memory, My Lord?"

"Modified her memory?" Voldemort asked, his voice sneering. "But Memory Charms can be broken, Wormtail. As I proved when I broke through the charm someone else had placed upon her. It would be an insult to her _memory_ not to use the information I extracted from her."

There was another pause. Wormtail managed to get to his feet once more, though his knees were shaky.

"One more curse… and my faithful servant hidden at Hogwarts… and Harriet Potter will be as good as mine. I will hear no more arguments, Wormtail. Shh… I hear Nagini. _Nagini? Is that you_?"

"_Yes, my Looooooooooooord,"_ came a chilling, wicked voice. It was almost as horrible to hear as Lord Voldemort's.

Harriet just barely stopped herself from crying out. A massive snake was sliding into the room. It had to be as long as Hagrid was tall. Harriet knew who the third chilling voice was. It was the snake, which Voldemort had called Nagini.

"_My Looooooooood,"_ Nagini hissed, slithering over to the chair that Lord Voldemort was in. "_I bring news._"

"_News?"_ Lord Voldemort asked. "_Tell me_."

"_There is a muggle man outside the door listening to every word we say_," Nagini hissed.

Harriet shivered, both from the shock that someone else had been listening, and from the malice that had come through the snake's voice.

"Nagini has interesting news, Wormtail."

"Indeed, My Lord? What?" Wormtail asked.

"Indeed yes, Wormtail. There is an old muggle man standing right outside this room listening to every word we say. His name is Mr Bryce. The gardener here. Please show him in, Wormtail."

Wormtail crossed to the door and whipped it open. There was indeed an elderly man standing outside the room. He was dressed shabbily, wearing an old tweed jacket, shirt and trousers. He was leaning heavily on a walking stick.

For a fleeting moment, Mr. Bryce reminded Harriet of an elderly Kieran as he limped into the room. He looked like how Kieran had looked during their encounter with Aragog, had he been seventy years older, as he bent a mean eye on Wormtail and the back of Voldemort's chair. The great snake, Nagini, was now curled up on the rug in front of the fire, her long forked tongue flicking in and out.

"You heard everything, Muggle?"

"What's that you're calling me?" the old man named Frank Bryce demanded.

"I am calling you a _Muggle_," Voldemort said with cool impatience. "It means that you are not a wizard."

"Well, I dunno what you mean by wizard," Frank said. "All I know is I've heard enough to interest the police tonight, I have! You've done murder, and you're planning more! And I'll tell you this too! My wife knows I'm up here, and if I don't come back—"

Voldemort gave an exasperated sigh. "You have no wife, Muggle. Nobody knows you are here, except the three of us in this room."

Harriet gasped, then remembered that Voldemort must have been referring to Nagini. "Do not lie to Lord Voldemort, Muggle. For he knows… he always knows…"

"Oh, is that right?" Frank said.

Suddenly, Harriet's scar began to burn. She clamped her hands to her forehead as it began to burn.

"Well I don't think much of your manners, _My Lord_," Frank said, sarcastically. "Turn around and face me like a man, why don't you?"

Harriet was doing all she could to keep from screaming.

"Oh… but I am not a man, Muggle. I am much… much… more than a man." Voldemort's voice was barely a whisper. Harriet could feel the rage coming from the chair as if it was bolts of lightning.

"However… why not…? I will face you. Wormtail? Turn my chair around."

Wormtail whimpered.

"Wormtail."

Wormtail slowly approached the chair. He looked as though his every impulse was telling him to flee, but he kept moving forward. He placed his hands on either side of the chair and began to turn it. One of the legs caught the hearthrug where Nagini was lying and the snake hissed at him irritably.

And then, Harriet finally saw. The sight was so horrible that she finally did scream. And so did Frank Bryce. There was a jet of green light and at once, Harriet awoke.

* * *

><p>Harriet panted as she stared at the ceiling of the room she shared with Hermione. Beside her, Hermione was sleeping soundly. Apparently, Harriet had not screamed in real life. One of her hands was still clutched to her forehead, however, which was still burning more painfully than Harriet had ever felt it.<p>

Harriet clutched her chest, trying to get her heart to stop pounding. It felt as though she'd just run a marathon. She sat up slowly and put on her glasses.

She was back in the room she had slept in the previous summer at McIntyre Manor. She was sharing the room with Hermione, because the McIntyres had thought that Hermione would like the room's history. Ronnie and Dora were sharing the room next to them. Neither had seemed terribly happy about it.

Harriet tried to remember the dream. It had been horrible, she knew that. It had seemed so real too, so real that even though Harriet felt as though she knew she was dreaming, she couldn't wake up. Not until she saw the horrible thing in the chair. Whether it was her horror at the sight, or the pain in her scar, that finally woke her, Harriet didn't know.

She pressed her face into her hands, trying to remember. There had been an old man. But his features were hazy now. All Harriet could remember was a flash of blinding green light and then waking up. Before that, Voldemort and Wormtail had been talking about having killed someone. The name triggered something in her memory, but Harriet just couldn't place it. Not only that, but they were planning on killing someone else. _Her_.

"Harriet?" Harriet jumped. Hermione had woken and was looking at her with sleepy eyed concern.

"What's up?" Hermione asked, stretching.

"Nothing," Harriet said, quicker than she'd intended. "Just a bad dream."

"Oh no, what about?" Hermione asked.

"I… I don't remember," Harriet lied. She didn't know why she wasn't telling Hermione, but somehow she didn't feel she could bear to tell anyone about that horrible vision or dream or whatever it was.

"What time is it?" Hermione asked.

Harriet leaned over and looked at the little clock on the bedside table. "Just past four in the morning," Harriet replied.

"Mmmm… more sleep," Hermione said, rolling back over.

Harriet looked at her friend's bushy brown hair splayed over the pillow. They had been at the McIntyres for half a week already. Hermione had finally started to lighten up after the incident with Fern. She had been furious with her parents for calling the police to them about Fern. She hadn't even said goodbye to them when they left for the McIntyres with Jess.

Harriet rubbed her forehead more. The pain was mostly gone. The thing that was troubling her the most was that the last time her scar had hurt like this, it had been because Lord Voldemort was at Hogwarts, hiding in the back of Quirrell's head.

But he couldn't be that close to her now, could he? Surely not. Not here in Glen Raglan.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Hermione asked. She was looking at Harriet again, sounding more awake.

"Yeah, fine," Harriet said.

"Was it about the night your Aunt attacked you?" Hermione asked.

Harriet grimaced. She had never told any of her friends, except for Kieran, what had happened that night. Apparently, Kieran had been good to his word and kept the secret for her. Harriet had another flash of the image she'd had of Dora at the lacrosse match. How long could she possibly go keeping that secret from the rest?

She suddenly had an image of how Hermione must have looked having lost her best friend. And how she must have felt thinking that she had lost the rest of them as friends the previous year. _As long as it possibly takes_, Harriet thought to herself.

_Freak!_

"Just try and get a bit more sleep," Hermione said. "Or maybe ask Dobby to get you some warm milk?"

"Yeah… I think I will…" Harriet said.

She got out of bed and put her night-coat on. Harriet tried not to look too hurried as she bustled from the room, closing the door quietly behind her. She didn't head to the kitchen, however. Instead she headed up the stairs to where the owls were roosting.

She stopped in the little study she remembered from the previous year and sat, picking up a quill and some parchment. There was one person she needed to tell. One person who would listen. She began to write to Daniel.

_Dear Daniel,_

Harriet paused. What was she going to say? What could she say without sounding like a stupid, scared kid?

_You are a stupid, scared kid_, said a little voice in her brain and Harriet gave her head a shake, trying to shoo the thought away.

_Something weird happened tonight. I was sound asleep, and_

Harriet paused again. Should she mention the dream? _No_.

_I woke up and my scar was hurting. The thing is, last time it happened, it was because Lord Voldemort was near me. But he can't be anywhere near me now, can he? Do curse scars sometimes still hurt years later?_

Harriet contemplated the letter some more.

_I'm doing okay otherwise. We're at the McIntyres' now. There hasn't been any serious drama, not like my last letter about Hermione's old friend Fern. Though it's been… different._

_It's weird having so many others here. Kieran, Scott and Marcus are staying at Kieran's house with Jackson, while the rest of us girls are staying here at the McIntyres'. They don't seem to like the idea of us sleeping under one roof together for some reason._

_Jackson apparently got in trouble with the O'Briens the week before. They found out he was sneaking down at night to sleep in the back yard with Epeius instead of sleeping in his room. Rachel was the one who talked him out of it, telling him it's dangerous to be outside like that all alone with Kinney on the loose. Granted I think she's pretty much the only person he'll listen to. They still moved Epeius to stay with the unicorns instead, which I think is kind of dumb, but the parents said it was to "remove the temptation."_

_The girls are really nice but you probably know them already. Peyton has calmed down a lot. She's not as stuck up and prickly all the time. Erica's great as ever. She and George went on a date and it was adorable to see him trying to act like a gentleman. Mostly I think they're just happy getting to see something besides Hogwarts._

_I think I get on with Rachel the best still, but Toni's a close second. I can see what Hyland likes in her. She's really nice and really pretty. She reminds me a lot of Dora and Emma in a way. Probably mostly because Dora and Taylor are both older sisters but Emma and Toni are both way taller than them._

_Other than that, it's kind of boring though. All the older girls ever want to do is relax and go sunbathing on the beach behind the house. I have to borrow one of Hermione's old swimsuits when we do that. It didn't fit right, but Dobby fixed that._

_I don't know if I like sunbathing so much. It's really boring just lying there. And_

Harriet paused in her writing. It seemed personal, but now that Harriet was letting things out it was hard to really stop.

_I feel really awkward every time we do. It's like every other girl, even Rachel, seem, well, _bigger_ than me, you know? Sorry you probably don't want to hear that but I always feel so self-conscious around them. Around all of them, but especially Erica, Peyton, Ari, Taylor, and Danielle._

Harriet paused again. A couple other thoughts came to her that Harriet hadn't been willing to talk about with her friends. Thoughts concerning some of the girls.

_I do have a couple questions, and I haven't known how to ask anyone else here. But, Ari and Taylor seem to be a bit, well, more than friends. They hold hands all the time, and I saw them kissing. Like not on cheeks, like, on the lips. Like couples. Is that normal? They seem really sweet and nice, but I've never seen two girls acting like that before._

Harriet sighed taking a break and looking at the letter more. Why was she going on like that? None of it was relevant. But she didn't know who else she was going to ask about any of this. She couldn't help but feel guilty, as though she was judging. But it just left her feeling confused.

No, Harriet knew why it was making her uncomfortable. Particularly Ari and Taylor. It was because of how Dora had been acting around her lately. She would try and hold Harriet's hand too from time to time as they went for walks. She always made sure she was sitting next to Harriet at the dinner table, or cuddled next to Harriet on the couch when they watched movies at the O'Briens'. She would jump on Harriet's back when they were swimming. She'd also seemed annoyed that Hermione was picked to share a room with Harriet instead of her.

Even worse, Ronnie was getting progressively more irritable with Dora. And each time she did, it coincided with one of Dora's attempts to be close to Harriet. Hermione said it was because they had to be in such close proximity and having to share a bed, but Harriet didn't think so. She shook her head, returning the letter again. Part of her wished she could write to Sirius, but she wasn't sure if she'd feel comfortable with him knowing. She didn't even know if she was allowed to write to him. Somehow, Daniel seemed the right person to ask.

_Also, I'm kind of curious about Alee Jameson. Everyone calls her Alee, and a girl and all that but… I think she's actually a boy. She wears girl clothes and has long hair and wears makeup but, she looks just too much like Nate Jameson. And every time we go sunbathing or swimming, she never joins in. She just sits on the beach and reads wearing a shirt and shorts. Am I crazy? Everyone else seems so casual about it all and I just can't make sense of it all. Am I being stupid? I think I am. _

_Sorry for rambling like that. I just don't know how to talk about all that with everyone else here. And I feel worse about that too._

_Anyway, sorry again. Tell Remus I miss him too and can't wait to see you two again soon. Is there any chance you two can come to the World Cup too?_

_Lots of love,_

_Harriet_

That was alright, Harriet thought. Daniel would give her a good, understanding answer to all her questions. She knew it.

Harriet got to her feet again and headed up to the owls' roost. She sighed, noting Hedwig wasn't back yet. Harriet leaned on the ledge of the owls' entrance. The sun was beginning to rise. They were going down to visit Epeius and the unicorn herd today. Harriet was very excited to see them all again. She remembered her patronus. She had yet to tell Jess about it. She'd tell her that later today.

Finally, Hedwig came flying back in. Harriet let her finish her dinner before tying Daniel's letter to Hedwig's leg and sending her off. Hedwig looked tired, but seemed to realize how upset Harriet was and set off at once. Harriet watched her out of sight, trying to process everything.

She'd just had a horrible dream about Lord Voldemort and Wormtail plotting to kill her and then murdering a defenceless old muggle man. There were two girls who seemed to be a couple, something she'd never seen before. Dora was starting to act the same way around Harriet. Every time she did, Ronnie got angry and would barely talk to anyone for hours.

Harriet sighed. Was anything going to go right this summer?

"Epeius!"

They had arrived at the field that the unicorns called home. Jackson had run out from the car toward the grassy expanse and shouted. At once, his equine best friend appeared in front of him, a streak of brown fur and a roar of thunder echoing across the plain.

"Miss me?" Jackson asked, laughing and stroking Epeius' nose.

"Of course," Epeius said. "I assume you missed me too."

"Always," Jackson laughed.

It occurred to Harriet that this was probably the longest that Jackson and Epeius had gone without seeing each other since they met. In spite of that, Jackson seemed to be the most relaxed that Harriet had ever seen him over the last half week. His style of dress had changed a bit as well. He was now dressing less western and more in line with the new grunge movement. He was currently wearing a black vest over a white t-shirt, blue-jeans and black boots.

"Hiya, Epeius!" Rachel said excitedly hurrying up to Epeius too.

The horse nickered and tossed his mane a bit in apparent happiness to see Rachel, lowering his head to allow Rachel to better stroke his long nose.

Just then, another thundering sound started. It was deeper, and louder than Epeius' sharp thunderclaps. This one Harriet could feel through the ground. The unicorns were coming.

Kieran and Scott were giving everyone smug little smiles (which was an odd look for Kieran to wear) as the unicorns approached. Every other face was bright and wide-eyed with amazement and excitement. The older girls in particular, even Erica, had gone rather giggly. Rachel was positively bouncing up and down, clapping her hands.

Jackson was giving Rachel a soft smile. Harriet gave him a knowing smile back and he rolled his eyes. Harriet remembered the moment last year when Rachel had suffered another panic attack and Maranesa, the minotaur shaman, had told Jackson that he and Rachel were connected.

Apparently, Harriet wasn't the only one to notice. Epeius actually nudged his shoulder into Jackson who grunted and gave Epeius a nudge back with his own shoulder.

"My babies," Jess said, approaching the unicorns with her arms held out in reverence just as she had the last summer.

Scott chuckled seeing the look on Harriet's face.

"Yeah, she does that every time," he confided in an undertone.

Harriet giggled.

The unicorns wasted little time in getting to know the girls. Marcus seemed a little put-out that the unicorns were all giving him a wide berth. Harriet remembered Jess saying that unicorns didn't like boys as much. However, Jess guided him over to the foals who were more trusting. In next to no time, the foals were all scampering around Marcus playing a game of tag that they had played with Harriet the previous summer.

However, Harriet noticed something else. Despite their reluctance to get near Marcus, the unicorns seemed to have no such problem with Jackson. Harriet wondered if this was because of his friendship with Epeius. Harriet noted that Jess was studying Jackson thoughtfully too, rubbing her strong chin, looking impressed.

"Has a knack with horses, doesn't he?" Jess said to Harriet as Harriet walked over.

"Yeah, he does," Harriet agreed.

"Must be because of Epeius," Scott said. "They've really taken to him despite being a different species."

"Oh my babies know that a horse is a horse," Jess said, proudly.

Ari, Danielle, Erica, Peyton, and Taylor all looked at each other, breaking into little mischievous smiles and whispering "_Of course, of course_," in a singsong before breaking out in giggles.

"Hmm?" Harriet asked.

"Oh, nothing," Peyton replied after catching her breath, winking.

Harriet looked over at Epeius and noted that despite his apparently being accepted by the other unicorns, he was keeping his distance. She decided to go talk to him instead.

"Hey Epeius," Harriet said stepping up to him.

"Hello, Harriet," Epeius said in his usual deep voice. "Going well?"

"Well enough," Harriet said. Unbidden, her awkward memories returned.

Epeius' expression didn't change, but somehow Harriet couldn't help but tell that he knew she wasn't being entirely truthful.

"You humans… always hiding things," he said, confirming Harriet's suspicions.

"Sorry, it's complicated," Harriet replied.

Epeius simply turned and started watching the herd again.

"How are you getting on with the others?" Epeius asked.

"Oh yeah, they're great," Harriet said, much more sincerely this time.

"I enjoyed their company too… but the older girls kept calling me _Mister Ed_… no idea what they meant by it but they seemed to mean it in an endearing way."

"Huh, got me," Harriet shrugged.

Epeius gave a loud sniff and returned his attention to the herd. It was then that Harriet noticed something else. It wasn't the herd he was watching. Rather, he was clearly watching one of the unicorn mares.

"Ohhhhhhhh," Harriet grinned.

Epeius turned his head slowly to look back at her. "What?" he asked.

"What's her name?" Harriet asked, grinning.

Epeius snorted. "You wouldn't be able to say it in your tongue."

"There isn't a translation?" Harriet asked.

"No," Epeius said. "Not from Unicorn. It's an amazing dialect. Beautiful, lyrical… probably how you humans view languages like French."

Harriet laughed loudly. "But there's still translations of French!" Harriet laughed.

Epeius snorted. "Well, maybe it wasn't the best comparison. Still."

"Talk to her much?" Harriet asked.

"No…" Epeius said and shifted a little.

Harriet grinned. For some reason, she found the fact that a horse like Epeius could get bashful to be utterly adorable.

"Well, just when are you going to acknowledge your own friends' interests?" Epeius asked.

Now Harriet felt herself blush and shift uncomfortably.

"Wh-who do you mean?" Harriet asked. "Which friend?"

Epeius looked at her with his fathomless eyes. "You misunderstood. I didn't say 'friend's,' I said 'friends'.' More than one."

Epeius looked back out at the field. "Because I'm fairly sure Dora isn't the only one."


	7. The Portkey

**Chapter 7**

**The Portkey**

* * *

><p>"How wonderful it is to finally step out and see the vastness of the world. Even better, when you realize how little you have to do to actually see just how big it is."<p>

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

* * *

><p>"Time to go, Harriet dear."<p>

Harriet grunted as Mrs Weasley shook her awake. It was the morning of the Quidditch World Cup, but Harriet couldn't help but feel she'd barely slept at all. She put on her glasses as Hermione grunted, waking up too. Ronnie was putting up a considerably harder fight.

The girls dressed in silence. After their time at Glen Raglan, only Harriet and Hermione had returned to the Burrow. Marcus had gone to see the last regular match, Netherlands v Germany, with his dad. Kieran and Scott had stayed at home with their parents. Dora had gone back home to spend time with her family. Ginny, meanwhile, had gone ahead with the Lovegoods to camp out before the match.

They were delayed by the considerable amounts of yawning and stretching they were doing. Then further delayed by having to stop and make their hair behave.

Harriet winced as she gave a knot in her hair too hard a tug. She had been irritable all week after receiving Daniel's reply. It wasn't that he'd said anything mean, or actually made her feel stupid. It was that he'd barely said anything at all.

_Dear Harriet,_

_I understand what you're going through, and you're not being stupid. There's a lot of things in life you never really got to experience through no fault of your own. There's a lot in your letter that's difficult to answer in another letter. Remus and I will meet you at the Cup. We'll talk about it all then._

_See you in a week,_

_Daniel_

While Harriet had appreciated his quick response, she didn't really appreciate being left in the dark for another week. She was tired of always not knowing, always being one step behind everyone else.

However, now the day was finally here. Daniel and Remus were going to address her concerns, and she was going to be watching the Quidditch World Cup Final. The match had come down to Ireland and Bulgaria, the two teams Fred, George, and Charlie had all been sure were going to go head to head.

With one last, frustrated sigh from each, Harriet and Hermione set down their brushes and stumbled into the kitchen. Fred and George were already there; staring blankly as Mrs Weasley stirred a large pot of porridge on the stove. Mr Weasley was sitting at the table as well, looking over some large, parchment tickets. He smiled as the girls entered and spread his arms.

"What do you think? Like a Muggle?" he asked. He was wearing a golfing jumper, a pair of overlarge jeans, held up by a thick leather belt.

"Very well done, Mr Weasley," Hermione complimented.

"Where're Bill and Charlie and Percy?" George asked, stifling a yawn.

"Well, they'll be Apparating," Mrs Weasley said as she began ladling porridge into everyone's bowls. "So they can have a bit of a lie-in."

Bill's arrival had made Harriet feel a little better about her own behaviour regarding Charlie. While she had found Bill fanciful when he was in the picture, she didn't find real life Bill quite as appealing. It wasn't because he wasn't handsome. He just seemed a bit too "cool" for Harriet's tastes. He wore dragon-hide boots, had a fang earring, and his hair was done in a long ponytail.

Hermione, however, went positively spare when he was around. Harriet imagined this had more to do with the fact Bill had once been both a Prefect and Head Boy at Hogwarts than his current fashion sense.

"So they're still in bed," Fred muttered as he pulled his porridge bowl closer. "Why can't we apparate too?"

Harriet didn't know a whole lot about apparition, other than it was very difficult, and involved disappearing in one place, and reappearing almost instantly in another.

"Because you're not of age, and you haven't passed your tests," Mrs Weasley snapped.

"You have to take a test to apparate?" Harriet asked.

"Oh, yes," Mr Weasley said cheerfully, tucking the tickets into his pocket. "Just the other day the Department for Magical Transportation had to fine a couple of people who tried it without a licence. Apparition's really difficult, even for fully qualified wizards. That's why most don't bother with it, prefer brooms instead. Anyway, this particular pair went and Splinched themselves."

Everyone but Harriet winced. "Splinched?" she asked.

"It means they left part of themselves behind," Mr Weasley explained. "So they were stuck, couldn't move either way. Accidental Magic Reversal Squad had a heck of a time sorting them out, and all the paperwork too, what with all the muggles who'd seen the body parts they'd left behind."

Harriet grimaced. She had an image of a leg left behind in Privet Drive and decided she rather preferred the idea of brooms too. "Were they okay?" she asked.

"Oh yes," Mr Weasley said. "But they got a heavy fine, and I doubt they'll be trying it again in a hurry."

"But Bill, Charlie and Percy all can do it?"

"Charlie had to do the test twice," Fred said. He grinned maliciously. "Failed the first time, Apparated five miles south of where he'd planned and landed on some poor old dear doing her shopping."

"Yes, well he passed the second time," Mrs Weasley said.

Harriet couldn't help but feel a tiny bit relieved that at least Charlie had trouble with Apparating.

"Percy only just passed the week you lot went off to Hermione's," George said. "He kept Apparating downstairs every morning just to prove he could."

"Why'd he stop?" Hermione asked.

"We put a tack on his seat," Fred said in an undertone.

"Why are we up so early?" Ronnie asked. She clearly hadn't listened to anything anyone was saying.

"We've got a bit of a walk," Mr Weasley said. "The Portkey's located at the top of Stoatshead Hill."

"A Portkey?" Harriet asked.

"Oh yes," Mr Weasley said. "Enchanted objects used to move multiple people at once from one place to another. A bit more fool proof than Apparating, but slower, and faster than brooms and more discrete."

Harriet nodded with a bit of a relief. For a moment she had worried that they were going to be walking to the Cup. Not that she minded a walk, she just didn't want to miss getting to talk to Daniel and Remus.

"George!" Mrs Weasley snapped, making everyone jump.

"What?" George asked, trying and failing to sound innocent.

"What is that in your pocket?"

"Nothing!"

"Don't you lie to me!" Mrs Weasley jabbed her wand at George's pocket. "_Accio!_"

A handful of brightly coloured little objects shot from George's pocket. He tried to grab for them but missed and they landed in Mrs Weasley's hand instead.

"We told you to destroy them!" Mrs Weasley said, her face read with fury as she brandished the little objects in Fred and George's faces. Harriet recognized them at once as Ton-Tongue Toffees. "We told you to get rid of the lot! Empty your pockets, now! Both of you!"

It was not a pleasant scene. Fred and George apparently were trying to smuggle the Toffees out of the house to somewhere safer. Unfortunately, this effort came to a dramatic and tragic conclusion as Mrs Weasley's wand flashed. "_Accio! Accio! Accio!_" Mrs Weasley cried.

Toffees shot out of everywhere. Some were hidden in the lining of George's jacket, and Fred had hidden more in the cuffs of his jeans.

"We spent six months developing those!" Fred shouted angrily as she dumped the toffees into the bin.

"Oh a fine way to spend six months!" Mrs Weasley shouted back. "No wonder you didn't get more O. !"

Harriet sighed as they left. It felt like leaving Hermione's house all over again. Fred and George had stormed off ahead of the group without a word to their mother.

Daybreak was just beginning to rise on the horizon as they made their way towards Stoatshead Hill. Harriet, her mind starting to fill up with the excitement of watching the Cup and how she was going to see other wizards from all around the world, sped up to walk with Mr Weasley.

"So, is everyone going to be getting to the Cup via Portkeys?"

"Oh most people," Mr Weasley said. "Given that most people are going to be arriving as families. But we do have apparition points set up as well and patrolled lanes which witches and wizards who wish to arrive via brooms can travel without worrying about Muggle air traffic."

"How many people are coming?" Harriet asked.

"Well the stadium we built for it seats a hundred thousand," Mr Weasley explained.

"Whoa," Harriet muttered.

Mr Weasley chuckled.

"So a hundred thousand people are heading to the Cup today?" Harriet asked.

"Oh no," Mr Weasley said. "We staggered the arrivals. Take the Lovegoods. They had to arrive last week at their camp site."

Harriet digested that information. "So, a stadium big enough for a hundred thousand people, how have they kept that hidden from the Muggles?"

"Well, it wasn't easy. We first had to find a nice, big moor with adjacent camping sites. Then, we had to put muggle-repelling charms on every single inch of it. Anytime Muggles have got within a mile of the stadium they've suddenly _remembered_ very important appointments, and had to rush off. Bless them."

The group fell into silence once more as they continued toward the hill. They passed through Ottery St Catchpole. Their footsteps sounded ominous as they echoed around the empty streets. The black mass that was Stoatshead Hill finally came into view as they exited the other side of the town. Harriet was shivering from the morning cold and Fred and George groaned sleepily at the sight.

Harriet's cold abated quickly as they all grunted and struggled up the hill. There was plenty to slip and trip on, thick tufts of grass and hidden rabbit holes. Hermione and Ronnie, being much more focused on their fitness from lacrosse and football, were leading everyone easily. Fred, George, and Harriet however were lagging behind.

"We should suggest some fitness training to whoever's captain this year," Harriet panted under her breath to Fred.

"I don't climb whopping great hills enough to change my life," George said, overhearing.

Finally, they made it to the top. Mr Weasley smiled looking around as he caught his breath. "Right, now we just need the Portkey," Mr Weasley said. "It won't be big."

"What will it look like?" Harriet asked, looking around and feeling foolish as she had no idea exactly what she was looking for.

"Oh, something small and unobtrusive. A boot perhaps, an old oven lid. Something small and innocuous enough that muggles wouldn't bother picking it up."

"Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we've got it!" The voice had come from the other side of the hilltop. Harriet squinted and through the darkness she made out two tall figures silhouetted against the stars.

"Ah, Amos," Mr Weasley said cheerfully as the group made their way over to the figures.

He gestured to the rest of the group and they followed. Harriet's heart jumped as they got close enough to make out the features of the two figures. Harriet didn't recognize the tall, bearded man, but she definitely recognized the teenage boy standing beside him. As ever, the teen gave Harriet little butterflies as he gave everyone a radiantly casual smile.

His hair was wavy and brown, his jawline strong and his shoulders wide. His smile was warm and glowing even in the barely risen sun. He was a year older than Fred and George, captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch Team and a Prefect. It was Cedric Diggory.

"Everyone, this is Amos Diggory," Mr Weasley said, introducing everyone to the bearded man standing with Cedric. He was holding onto a mouldy old boot. "He works in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

Harriet felt her eyes narrow on their own. That was the same department that ran the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, which Lucius Malfoy had manipulated into agreement for Buckbeak, Hagrid's pet hippogriff's, execution the previous year. By the looks on Ronnie and Hermione's faces, they had not forgotten this injustice either.

"And I think you all know his son, Cedric?"

Cedric gave everyone an awkward wave. "Hi."

The rest of the teens said "Hi" back. Harriet's "Hi" was perhaps a bit more enthusiastic than she'd originally intended.

The exceptions were Fred and George. George just gave him a curt nod, while Fred just gave him a dirty look. Harriet figured this was because the last time their team had played Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff had won. Then Harriet remembered how Fred had been acting around her lately and wondered if Fred was in fact jealous. For some reason, this possibility made Harriet lose all her butterflies, and instead she felt her lips curl into an involuntary, and rather sheepish, smile.

"Long walk, Arthur?" Mr Diggory asked.

"Oh, not too bad. We just live on the other side of the village. You?"

"Had to get up a two, didn't we, Ced? Could have Apparated but someone's been a bit lazy with signing up for a test time."

Cedric went red. Harriet wondered if Cedric didn't like the idea of Apparating either.

"Still," Mr Diggory went on. "Not complaining. Quidditch World Cup and all, wouldn't miss it for a sackful of galleons! Mind you the tickets cost about that. Though blimey, looks like I got off easy! All these yours, Arthur?"

Mr Weasley laughed. "Oh no, just the redheads. My sons, Fred and George. My eldest daughter, Ronnie. And Ronnie's friends, Hermione, and Harriet."

"Galloping gargoyles," Mr Diggory spluttered, his eyes widening. "Not… Harriet _Potter_?"

"Uh, yeah," Harriet muttered. Harriet wondered if she'd ever get used to the people always tried to spot her scar through her fringe every time they heard her name. Mr Diggory was no exception.

"Ced's talked about you, of course!" Mr Diggory said. "Told us all about playing against you last year. I said to him, I said… Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will! You beat Harriet Potter!"

Harriet was left a bit speechless at this. Fred bent Cedric a very ugly look indeed.

Cedric shifted uncomfortably. "Harriet fell off her broom, Dad," Cedric said. "I told you it was an accident, normally she would have beaten me."

Harriet felt her eyes widen involuntarily.

"Now, now, Ced. You didn't fall off, did you?" Mr Diggory countered genially, slapping Cedric on the back. "Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman. But the better flyer won, I'm sure Harriet would agree. And showing everyone just what Hufflepuff house is made of into the mix!"

"Not likely," Fred interjected. "Since the only reason _Ced_ didn't fall off is he doesn't have to listen to you and his dear mummy snuffing it trying to save his life because of the dirty-great crowd of dementors!"

"Fred!" Mr Weasley snapped.

Mr Diggory scowled and Fred scowled right back. Cedric however was looking at Harriet with a dumbstruck look on his face. Something of the pain of that memory must have shown on Harriet's face, because Cedric's expression quickly changed from dumbstruck to sympathetic.

Mr Diggory opened his mouth to retort but Mr Weasley interrupted by looking at his watch. "Ah, just about time! Are we waiting for any more, Amos?"

Mr Diggory took a breath and calmed himself down. "No, the Lovegoods have already been there for a week, and the Fawcetts couldn't get tickets."

"Ah, well that would be everyone then." Mr Weasley checked his watch again. "Right, we're a minute off. Let's get ready, everyone."

Mr Diggory held out the boot and Mr Weasley smiled down at Harriet and Hermione. "You just need to touch the Portkey, girls. A finger will do."

As there were eight of them, all with heavy backpacks, it was difficult for everyone to get close enough. Eventually, in just the nick of time, they managed it. Harriet had one fleeting image of what would happen if a Muggle were to happen upon them when Mr Weasley began the final countdown.

"Three… two… one!"

It happened in an instant. Harriet felt as though something tugged hard on her middle, just behind her belly-button. It pulled her forward and before Harriet knew what was really happening, her feet had left the ground. They were speeding forwards. The entire world was the roar of wind and swirling colours. Harriet could feel Ronnie and Hermione's shoulders bumping into hers as they sped forwards.

Harriet's feet hit the ground. Ronnie staggered into her and she in turn toppled into Hermione, all three girls collapsing to the ground. There was a heavy thud nearby which Harriet took to be the Portkey.

Harriet looked around. Mr Weasley, Mr Diggory, and Cedric were still standing, though they looked quite windswept. Fred and George grunted nearby. They had fallen as well.

"Seven past five from Stoatshead Hill," said a nearby voice.

Harriet, Hermione, and Ronnie managed to disentangle themselves and got to their feet. They were standing on a misty moor. It looked deserted, except for two wizards standing nearby. Both of them seemed grumpy, and very tired. One was looking at a large golden pocket watch while the other was reading a thick roll of parchment. They had both dressed as muggles, though rather poorly. The one with the watch was wearing a tweed suit and thigh length galoshes, while his colleague was wearing a kilt and a poncho.

"Ah, good morning, Basil," Mr Weasley said, picking up the boot and handing it to the kilted wizard, who threw it into a large box of objects Harriet took to be used Portkeys. Harriet noted a newspaper, an empty drinks can, and a punctured football.

"Hello, Arthur," said Basil, wearily. "Not on duty, eh? It's all right for some. We've been here all night. Get relieved in an hour though. You'd better get out of the way though, big party from the Black Forest, twenty two in all, coming in at five fifteen. I'll just quick look up your campsite… Weasley… Weasley…" he studied the parchment. "Ah, here we are. About a quarter mile's walk over there. First field. Site manager's called Mr Roberts. Diggory, you'll be the next field down. Ask for Mr Payne."

"Thanks, Basil," Mr Weasley said.

They set off after Mr Weasley. It was hard to see where they were going in the thick mists, but Mr Weasley took out his wand, set it in the palm of his hand and said "_Point Me_." The wand spun in his hand and stopped.

"There we are," Mr Weasley said and started walking once more. Harriet made a note of the spell in her head, as it seemed to be a spell which turned a wand into a compass.

After another twenty minutes, they arrived at a small stone cottage and a gate. Through the mists, Harriet could make out hundreds of tents, sprawled across the large open field, heading towards a large, thick wood. They bid the Diggorys fair well (everyone but Fred and George), and headed to the cottage. There was a man standing in the doorway. The man looked just as tired as the two men who met them at the Portkey, but his perfectly acceptable muggle dress told Harriet that he was probably the only real muggle for several acres.

"Good morning!" Mr Weasley called as they approached.

"Mornin'," said the Muggle.

"Would you happen to be Mr Roberts?"

"Aye, that's me," Mr Roberts said. "And you are?"

"Weasley. Two tents. Booked a couple of days ago?"

"Oh, aye," Mr Roberts said. He turned and ran a finger down a list he had tacked to his door. "Got a space up by the wood there. Just the one night?"

Mr Weasley didn't respond right away. He had caught sight of Mr Roberts' tractor but George nudged him and brought him back to the present. "Oh, yes that's right," Mr Weasley said.

"You'll be paying now, then?"

"Oh – right, certainly!" said Mr Weasley. He took a few steps away from the cottage, his back to Mr Roberts, and beckoned Hermione over.

They whispered discretely. Mr Roberts leaned closer, clearly trying to listen in. Finally, Mr Weasley looked satisfied and returned to Mr Roberts.

"You foreign?" Mr Roberts asked as Mr Weasley handed him the notes.

"Uh, foreign?" Mr Weasley asked.

"You're not the first who's had trouble with money. Had two who tried to pay me with great gold coins the size of hubcaps ten minutes ago. Lots of Irish, too. Bit too many if you ask me, after the bombing in Bognor Regis."

"Bombing?" Mr Weasley spluttered.

"Getting mighty suspicious to me. You watch yourself. It's like some sort of big rally, or party or something. Usually people just turn up but look at them all," Mr Roberts said gesturing to the tents. "Strange folks, one walking around in a kilt and a poncho. Something's going on and I've half a mind to call the Home—"

There was a popping noise and a wizard in plus-fours appeared out of thin-air next to Mr Roberts' door and pointed his wand at the muggle.

"_Obliviate!"_ he said.

Mr Roberts' eyes instantly slid out of focus, and his face went from angry concern to passive and relaxed.

"A map of the campsite for you," Mr Roberts said, his voice placid. "And your change."

"Thank you very much," Mr Weasley said.

The wizard in plus-fours accompanied them away from the cottage. He looked just as exhausted as everyone else but he seemed to be a bit friendlier.

"Been having a lot of trouble with him," the wizard said to Mr Weasley once they were out of earshot. "He's needed a memory charm ten times a day to keep him happy. Ludo Bagman's not helping in the least. Wandering about and talking about Bludgers and Quaffles at the top of his voice. Not a single worry about anti-Muggle security. Blimey, I'll be glad when this is over. Take care, Arthur."

The man Disapparated with a loud crack.

"Isn't Bagman head of Magical Games and Sports?" Ronnie asked. "He should know better than that."

"Yes, he should," Mr Weasley said leading them on once more. "But Ludo's never exactly been overly concerned with security. You couldn't wish for a more enthusiastic department head though. Played for England himself, you know. Best Beater the Wimborne Wasps ever had."

Harriet's feet were beginning to hurt badly as they continued on past the tents. For the most part, they all looked like perfectly ordinary tents. However, every now and then, it appeared some of the owners had slipped up. Some of them had chimneys, and bell-pulls and weather-vanes. Harriet also noted that some of the campers had slipped up so badly with their tents that Harriet was starting to see why Mr Roberts was getting suspicious. One particular tent looked like a miniature silken palace, with live peacocks tethered at the entrance. Another looked rather like Hogwarts, with three floors and turrets in the corners. Still another had an entire front garden which included a birdbath, a large sundial, and a fountain.

Mr Weasley sighed but smiled. "Always the same. We can't resist showing off when we get together. Ah! Here we are! At least, I think this is us…"

They finally reached the edge of the woods. There was an empty space and a small sign stuck into the ground that read "Weezly."

"Couldn't have a better spot!" Mr Weasley said excitedly. "The pitch is just the other side of the wood there. We're as close as we could be."

Mr Weasley groaned as he finally took off his backpack. "Right, we're not allowed to do magic, strictly speaking. Not when we're out in these numbers on Muggle land. So, we'll have to put these tents up by hand! Shouldn't be too difficult, Muggles do it all the time. Uh, Harriet, Hermione, where do you reckon we should start?"

Having spent a week camping in tents at the Grangers, Harriet and Hermione were fairly quick in setting up the tents. The only real factor slowing them down was Mr Weasley, who got a little over-excited about using the mallet to pound in the stakes. Finally, both the tents were standing. They looked a little shabby, but otherwise not too bad. However, there was one problem that both Harriet and Hermione seemed to touch on at the same time.

Neither tent looked big enough to hold any more than two people. But when Bill, Charlie, and Percy arrived, they would be a party of nine. Ten, if Ginny decided to join them. Mr Weasley however got down on his hands and knees and crawled inside the entrance of the first tent.

"Well, we should be alright. Not overly large but with four girls in one tent and the boys here in the other we should be just fine."

Harriet blinked and got down, following Mr Weasley inside as well. She gasped. What on the outside had looked like a two-person tent, on the inside was actually a three-roomed, fully furnished flat with bathroom and kitchen. Harriet felt an odd sense of familiarity as she looked around the flat.

Then she realized, it smelled and was furnished in exactly the same style as their batty neighbour, Mrs Figg's, where the Dursleys usually sent Harriet to stay whenever they went on holidays. The chairs were mismatched, and draped in crocheted covers. The most recognizable was the overwhelming smell of cats.

"Well, it's just for a night," Mr Weasley said. "Borrowed this one from Perkins in the office. Poor chap has lumbago so he doesn't camp much anymore these days."

Mr Weasley picked up the dusty kettle from the stove and peered into it. "Hmm, we'll need some water."

"There's a tap marked on the map the muggle gave us," Ronnie said. "It's over on the other side of the field."

"Well, how about you girls go and fetch the water, and the boys and I will fetch some firewood."

"Okay, Dad," Ronnie said. "We'll check out our tent first though."

"Oh, right you are, Ronnie," Mr Weasley said cheerfully. "We'll see you back in a while."

Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermione each took the kettle, and two saucepans, and headed over to their tent. It was smaller than the boys', but did not smell of cats. They picked out a bed each, put their bags down on them, and headed off in search of water.

The sun was fully up now and the mist was abating. Harriet gaped in wonder at just how vast the sea of tents was. She'd heard about other wizarding schools in other countries, but it was seeing this that really told Harriet just how many witches and wizards there must really be in the world.

"How many times, Kevin? You _don't – touch – Daddy's – wand!_"

They looked around. A young boy, who couldn't have been older than two, was prodding a slug with the tip of a wand. The slug had swollen to the size of a salami. His mother was hurrying up to the boy. She took the wand from his hand, but not before accidentally stepping on the slug, squashing it. "Yeuch!"

They hurried away as the little boy's wails followed them. A few tents down, they saw two little witches, who looked at most a year older than Kevin, skimming the grass on tiny toy broomsticks and giggling madly. A Ministry wizard hurried past Harriet, Hermione and Ronnie on his way towards the little girls' tent.

"In broad daylight! I ask you! Parents having a lie-in I suppose…"

The camp seemed to be coming to life around them. Witches and wizards were stepping out of their tents, starting to cook breakfast on fires. The smell of campfire smoke was permeating the air. Harriet noted that more than a few of the campers were forgoing matches, choosing instead to furtively light their fires with their wands. However, most seemed to be giving proper muggle techniques a try, with varying levels of success.

They passed a group of African wizards in long white robes, who were sitting and speaking seriously around a bright purple fire. Harriet raised her eyebrows realizing they were roasting a rabbit over it on a spit. They passed another group of tents that seemed to be together. There was a large star-spangled banner stretched between the tents and a sign that read: _The Salem Witches' Institute Memorial Group_.

"Blimey, I heard about that earlier in the summer," Ronnie muttered, shaking her head sadly.

"About what?" Harriet asked.

"Over in America, big Secessionist force launched a sneak attack up the eastern coast. Killed thousands, magic and muggle alike. That was back in like June."

"How horrible," Hermione said, biting her lip. "The school must have been destroyed too."

"School?" Harriet asked.

"The Salem Witches' Institute. It was an all witch school. It must have been destroyed too. Look, there's a donation tin."

They paused and made their way over. A group of middle-aged witches Harriet took to be alumni of the school were sitting solemnly around their own fire. They smiled at the girls as they approached and took out their money-bags.

"Bless you, darlings," said one of the witches. "Every little bit will help."

They continued on (Harriet put five galleons in) and soon found themselves surrounded by a dazzling array of green. Every tent in this patch was covered in a growth of thick shamrocks, so they looked like little hillocks rather than tents.

"There you lot are!" called a cheerful, familiar voice. They turned and saw Marcus walking towards them along with his fellow fourth-year Gryffindor boys, Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas.

"Like the theme?" Seamus asked, grinning ear to ear as he took in the tents. "Ministry's not terribly chuffed about it."

"Ah and why shouldn't we show our colours?" asked a sandy-haired woman who came walking up as well. Harriet figured at a glance that this was Seamus' mother. "You should see what the Bulgarians have got all over _their _tents!"

Mrs Finnigan gave all the girls a beady-look. "You're all supporting Ireland, right?"

They hurriedly reassured her that they were in fact supporting Ireland before setting off once more, this time with Marcus joining them.

"Like we'd say anything else surrounded by that lot, though," Ronnie muttered as they left the Irish supporters.

"What do the Bulgarians have all over their tents?" Hermione asked Marcus.

Marcus laughed. "Great big posters of the Bulgarian team seeker, Viktor Krum. Moving and all."

"Ah, well I can see why the Ministry wouldn't be so happy about that," Harriet said. "Look, there's the Bulgarians over there. Let's go have a look."

They headed over and sure enough, instead of shamrock coatings, each tent was adorned, as Marcus had said, with a large, magical poster of a very surly face with thick eyebrows and black hair. The picture was moving, though barely. The most that the figure in it did was blink and scowl uncomfortably.

"That's him," Ronnie said, reverently. "Krum."

"Doesn't look too happy, does he?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, he's really not," Marcus said. "I saw him at the last match I went to. He was running away from some reporters. He's not as old as he looks in the posters though. He's only what, eighteen?"

"Yeah," Ronnie agreed. "Still, even if I'm supporting Ireland I can't wait to see him in action. He's a _genius_! Just wait till you see him, Harriet. He'll make you forget all about my brother."

"Oh shut up," Harriet snapped.

They finally reached the queue for the water. A few spaces ahead of them in the line were Kieran and Scott, who eagerly gave up their places to come back and join the rest of them instead.

"Was wondering when you all were gonna turn up!" Scott said excitedly.

"Yeah, we just got in," Ronnie said smiling. "Been here long?"

"Got in last night," Kieran said. "Your Muggle as angry as ours?"

"Yeah," Ronnie said shrugging. "Not sure why though, he's getting paid for each tent isn't he?"

"Just put them on, Archie! There's a good chap!"

The group turned to take in the spectacle going on in front of them. An elderly wizard wearing a floral night-gown was in a heated argument with a ministry wizard who was holding out a pair of pinstriped trousers.

"You can't walk around like that," the Ministry wizard continued. "The muggle on the gate's getting suspicious again and he's already been Obliviated three times this morning!"

"I bought this in a Muggle shop!" Archie said, his tone obstinate. "Muggles wear them!"

"Muggle _women_ wear them Archie! Not the men! They wear these!"

"I'm not putting them on!" Archie growled. "I like a healthy breeze around my privates, thanks!"

Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermione, all came over with a powerful fit of the giggles. Hermione actually had to leave the line. Scott looked a little awkward as he walked up and tugged the Ministry wizard on the sleeve and suggested that Archie try on a kilt instead. Seeming somewhat happier about this prospect, Archie collected his water and followed the Ministry wizard off for more 'acceptable' Muggle attire.

Finally they got their water and made their way back to their campsites. They stopped for Kieran and Scott to take their water back to their tents before following the girls and Marcus back to the Weasleys. They spotted more familiar faces here and there as they went. They ran into Oliver Wood, who wasted little time in introducing Harriet to his parents. Harriet had always been rather taken with Wood, and so flushed furiously as Wood showered her with praise. He then informed Harriet that he had just been signed to the Puddlemere United reserve team.

Other familiar faces they saw were Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff fourth year along with Jeremy and Isabella. Another was Cho Chang, a fifth year Ravenclaw who despite playing Seeker for Ravenclaw and thus Harriet's rival, had always been quite decent to Harriet.

However, they soon passed a group of teenagers, none of whom were familiar to Harriet. "Think they go to a foreign school?" Harriet asked.

"Must do," said Kieran.

They walked over to introduce themselves. The students were from all over. Hermione was going spare, nearly spilling her water in excitement at the chance to talk to students from so many other schools. There were some from Beauxbatons who Harriet was thrilled to discover knew Camille. However, by the sound of it, Camille was quite popular, so nearly everyone knew her. Still others were from Mount Phoenix, which Kieran took a particular interest in and was deep in conversation with them.

There were a few Asian students as well who went to a school Harriet had never heard of; Four Nations. Harriet wasn't sure what to say, but mostly listened in as Scott began to chat with them about life at their school. Apparently he was interested because Atsuko had told him she would have gone to that school until her family moved to Britain when she was five.

Ronnie was talking with interest to some Latina witches around their age. Apparently they went to a school in Brazil named Muiraquitã. Ronnie was thrilled to discover that they shared a similar interest in football, and quickly brought on fits of laughter in regaling them with the story of her eldest brother, Bill, having a pen-friend from their school many years ago. The friend had requested Bill go on an exchange trip to their school for a year, but their parents couldn't afford it. The pen-friend had apparently been so offended that she sent him a cursed hat that made his ears shrivel up.

Finally, it was time they should really be returning to the tents and they parted from the other students. They returned and Harriet smiled when she saw the Flamels had arrived and were chatting merrily with Mr Weasley.

In spite of how awkward she had felt around Dora over the last couple of weeks, Harriet did feel a sense of completeness as Dora came over and gave everyone hugs (though she held hers with Harriet noticeably longer than everyone else's). Having everyone together again just seemed to feel right.

Emma was beaming as she hurried over too. "Guess what!" Emma said excitedly to the group.

"What?" Hermione asked smiling at the willowy second year.

"We got a puppy!"

"Really?" Kieran asked, smiling. "That's great."

Dora laughed and rolled her eyes.

"What did you name him?" Harriet asked, her eyes twinkling giving Emma a knowing smile. "Lemme guess, _Snuffles_?"

"Nope!" Emma grinned wider. "Max!"

"That's a very nice name, dear," Hermione said. "Is it short for something?"

"Yep!" Emma nodded. "For Maximus!"

"Maximus?" Hermione asked, blinking.

"Ya-huh," Emma said and pointed past Hermione.

The group turned and Hermione gave a shriek of surprise and stumbled backwards. Marcus was just quick enough to catch her before she fell. They were all standing almost face to face with a dog so large it rivalled Sirius' animagus form. Harriet stared in disbelief. The dog was covered in a short, fawn coat, with a black mask on a box-shaped head, very droopy skin, and floppy, triangular ears.

"He's a mastiff!" Emma said proudly as she rushed forward and hugged the dog around the neck. Harriet noted that Emma did not have to bend over very far to do so.

"Ma petit Emma would 'ave no other," Mr Flamel said, walking over to pat the massive dog on the head. "A spectacular specimen! Singular. English mastiff; two-hundred seven pounds and growing, three feet two at the shoulder, seven foot seven from nose to tail, and with plenty of years left to grow."

Max now flopped over on his back, his massive tongue lolling about as Emma giggled and kneeled down to scratch his belly.

"We were a bit sceptical of having such a large breed but we were assured they are a very passive breed," Mrs Flamel said.

There was no denying that, Harriet thought, as Max groaned. His back left leg was kicking as Emma found a good spot and his long tail whipped back and forth in glee. Dora meanwhile was smiling down at her sister as if nothing in the world made her happier than the sight. This made Harriet decide things were as back to normal as they could be.

* * *

><p>They spent the rest of the morning sitting around the campfire (which Hermione had helped Mr Weasley get started) cooking an early lunch. The adults were chatting merrily about the cup while the kids were all gathered around Max giving him as much attention as he could possibly handle. After she'd worn off her initial shock from Max's surprise appearance, Hermione had warmed to him a great deal.<p>

Finally, Bill, Charlie and Percy arrived just as the eggs and sausages were finished.

"Just Apparated, Dad," Percy said cheerfully.

"Nooooo, did you Apparate, Percy?" Fred jeered, "Could have sworn you'd walk."

"Did you stick your landing with a summersault?" George asked.

Percy glowered.

"Ah, lunch," Charlie said smiling as he took a seat next to the fire. However, no sooner had he done so than Mr Weasley hopped to his feet.

"Aha!" Mr Weasley said and waved vigorously. "The man of the moment! Ludo!"

Everyone turned. Ludo Bagman stood out by a mile. He was even more noticeable than old Archie had been in his night-dress. He was wearing garishly bright yellow Quidditch robes with horizontal black stripes, and an enormous wasp emblazoned across the chest.

He was tall and broad shouldered, a good build for a Beater, but Harriet couldn't help but notice that his robes were a bit tight around the middle, and his nose looked a bit squashed. Harriet figured that was the result of a missed Bludger. However, his rosy cheeks, short blonde hair, bright blue eyes, jubilant expression, and the spring in his step made him seem more like an excited schoolboy than anything else.

"Ahoy there!" Bagman called as he reached them. He beamed merrily at everyone. "Hello Arthur, my good man! And the Flamels too! Ah my lady Jessica you are ravishing as ever! Blimey, what a day, eh?! What a day! Could we have asked for more perfect weather? Cloudless night coming, not a single hiccup in the arrangements, teams are already here getting in their practicing. Not much for me to do but mix and mingle!"

Harriet was temporarily distracted from the garish sight of Bagman by a group of Ministry witches and wizards rushing past, looking angry and pointing. There was a jet of sparks shooting up some twenty feet into the air in the distance.

Her attention was called back to the scene by Mr Weasley making introductions. As per usual, Bagman gave Harriet the typical double-take that everyone did when realizing who she was for the first time.

Fortunately, Mr Weasley spared Harriet any awkward conversation by turning the attention back onto Bagman himself. "Everyone, this is Ludo Bagman, and it's thanks to him that we got such good tickets for you kids."

Bagman waved a hand dismissively but smiled all the same. He then pulled out a sack that jingled as though full of golden coins. "Anyone fancy a flutter on the match? Roddy Pontner's already bet that Bulgaria will score first. Offered him good odds, given Ireland's front three are the strongest I've seen in years. Agatha Timms has put up half shares in her eel farm on a week-long match."

"Oh, um, oh alright. A galleon on Ireland to win?" Mr Weasley said awkwardly.

"A galleon?" Mr Bagman asked, disappointed.

"Ah, there we are," said a voice behind Harriet.

Harriet's face split into a grin before she'd even turned around. Daniel had arrived. Even better, Remus was smiling down at her as well.

"We'll bet thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, and three Knuts!" Harriet heard Fred saying excitedly behind her. "Ireland will win, but Krum's gonna get the Snitch! And we'll throw in a fake wand!"

"So, someone wanted to talk?" Daniel said kindly as Bagman laughed loudly when the fake wand Fred handed him turned into a rubber chicken.

"Yes," Harriet said.

"Well, let's find somewhere a bit more quiet then," Remus said.

Harriet looked around. By the looks of it, everyone was outside at the moment. That meant the tents should be empty and private. Harriet led them into the boys' tent and sat at the dining table.

"So, Harriet, you say your scar was hurting?" Remus asked.

"Uh, yeah," Harriet said, a bit wrong-footed. She had expected to handle her other problems before getting on to that one.

"Well, unfortunately, we're not entirely sure what to tell you there," Daniel said. "See, Harriet; the only person ever to survive that curse was you. Plenty of curse scars do cause aches and pains over the years—take your friend, Kieran, for instance."

"Right, but as with Kieran that's usually because of where the curse hit. Do you remember anything else from that night, Harriet?" Remus asked. "Anything at all?"

"Well… I was dreaming," Harriet replied. Somehow, now she was face to face with the two, she found keeping secrets a lot harder.

"I see… and do you remember this dream?" Daniel asked.

"Just… bits of it…" Harriet said. "Like… there was Voldemort… and Wormtail… but that's about it."

"I see…" Remus said, sitting back and rubbing his chin. "Well, I don't know if it's anything to get _too_ alarmed about just yet, Harriet. But we do want you to do us a favour."

"What's that?" Harriet asked.

"The next time it happens, write down exactly what happens in the dream as soon as you wake up and send it to us _and_ to Professor Dumbledore straight away," Daniel said. "We've already consulted Albus about this incident, and while he found it troubling, he agreed it was nothing to get too worked up about just now."

Harriet nodded slowly.

"Okay, now that we've got the most pressing matter out of the way, we can turn to your other issues," Remus said, smiling once more.

Harriet shifted uncomfortably.

"Regarding Ari and Taylor," Daniel said, chuckling. "Yes, they are a couple."

"Like, dating?" Harriet asked.

"Yes," Remus said nodding. "Though I understand why it may have struck you. Relationships like that aren't terribly common just yet in the Muggle world. In the magical world, however, we're a bit more accepting of it."

"So, that's why no one else was making a big deal out of it?" Harriet asked.

"Precisely," Remus said. "In fact, one could go so far as to say that in the Muggle world, people like Ari and Taylor are as taboo as I am as a bitten wolf."

Harriet grimaced at the term. She suddenly felt as strong sense of guilt over having felt so weirded out by it. She wondered now if she should finally tell them about Dora's behaviour.

"Ah, don't beat yourself up, kiddo," Daniel said ruffling her hair. "There's a difference between being prejudiced and having no experience at those kinds of things."

"Really?" Harriet asked.

"Really," Remus said. "You said yourself in your letter that you thought they seemed really nice, didn't you?"

"Yeah…"

"And now that you know the truth do you feel better about them or worse?" Daniel asked.

"Better," Harriet said.

"Well, there you have it then," Remus said kindly. "And as for Miss Jameson, well, once again your intuition is correct."

"So, that _was_ Nate?" Harriet asked.

"Yes, and no," Daniel chuckled. "Legally, yes. As in that's what her parents named her. But in her mind; how she behaves and feels she really is, she's Alee."

Harriet tilted her head. This was starting to get confusing.

"It's another sort of gender and sexuality issue that's not exactly smiled upon in the Muggle world, Harriet," Remus said. "So much so, that you'll find it's largely used as the butt of jokes…"

"It's… not terribly common in the magical world, either," Daniel admitted. "At least it wasn't really well known until magical society started shifting in earnest to Muggle dress."

"How do you mean?"

Remus chuckled. "Well, take robes for instance. They are a bit on the gender-neutral side, are they not?"

"Oh, yeah," Harriet said. "Good point."

Daniel smiled. "So, don't worry about Alee. We know what a hard go of growing up you had with the Dursleys. You can't have gotten much exposure to anything that isn't 'normal' with them."

"No…" Harriet admitted. She was starting to feel better. But then another thought was nagging at her. It wasn't Dora's actions anymore. It was Harriet's own thoughts.

"So… there's… something else," Harriet said, her hands in her lap. Even though she was committing herself to opening up, she felt very vulnerable.

Daniel put a hand on her shoulder gently. "There's no need to force yourself, kiddo. Just know we're here to listen and offer whatever help we can."

Harriet nodded and tried to find the words. "So… you say that Ari and Taylor are okay? Like, there's nothing wrong with them?"

"We do," Remus said nodding.

"Okay… because well…" Harriet fumbled for her thoughts.

"Take your time," Remus said calmly.

"Okay," Harriet said. "Well… I sometimes… like… around boys… I get these feelings, like butterflies and stuff in my stomach, but… not just there…"

Daniel and Remus both smiled though they did look rather awkward now. "Well you are growing up," Daniel said. "Perfectly natural; hormones and whatnot."

Harriet nodded. "Like… I got them around Wood, and I get them around Cedric, and Charlie…"

Daniel laughed. "I thought I saw you giving him the eye at your birthday party," he said giving her a wink. "Though, if you don't mind my saying so, there are plenty of very nice lads at Hogwarts who are much closer to you in age."

"I know…" Harriet said. "I know it's kinda stupid but he's nice and kind."

"Well, so is your friend Kieran," Remus said.

Harriet blushed, remembering her whimsies during the Capture the Flag match of Kieran catching her.

"Well, so's Scott, and Marcus," Daniel added. "You seem to have a knack for attracting the right kind of guy," he concluded.

Harriet grimaced. This conversation was not on the path she wanted it on. "Well, that's not it," Harriet said.

Remus and Daniel both blinked.

"The thing is… I don't just… get those feelings about boys…"

Daniel and Remus' eyes both went wide and they mouthed "ohhhhhhhhh" in unison.

"Yeah… like… I get them around Professor Sinistra… and a couple weeks ago… we were at a lacrosse match while staying at the Grangers."

"A _female_ lacrosse match, I take it," Daniel said, chuckling. Remus elbowed him.

"Well, yeah," Harriet said.

Remus and Daniel both gave Harriet very sympathetic smiles.

"And, well, Dora asked me how she'd look in one of the kits and I pictured her—" Harriet paused. She decided to leave out that she'd also imagined Dora bound.

"Ohhhhhhh," Daniel and Remus said again.

"Well, there's nothing wrong with that either," Daniel said giving Harriet's shoulder another squeeze.

"No?" Harriet asked.

"No," Remus agreed. "And I understand how confusing it can be. Particularly at your age and especially with how little experience you have. Truth be told, no one at your age, regardless of their upbringing, has much of a clue in the areas of attraction. We all sort of fumble around. I'm not saying what you felt for say Cedric or Dora in those moments is not genuine. But I think you have a lot more important things to worry about at the moment than relationships."

Harriet nodded, digesting this.

"But that's not to say that you should shut it all out, either," Daniel said. "Just take life as it comes. If you find you like boys more, then you like boys more. If you like girls more, then you like girls more. If you like them both the same, then that's perfectly fine too. It doesn't really matter that much in our world, Harriet. It doesn't matter to either of us, and it certainly won't matter to Sirius."

"And unless I've seriously misjudged all your friends over the previous school year, I doubt very much it will matter to any of them, either," Remus said, his eyes twinkling.

Harriet tightened her lips. She was comforted by their words, but the lack of certainty was still nagging at her.

"But you're better off not letting any of it get to you, Harriet. And don't be afraid to open up to your friends. Closed doors never lead to long friendships, and if people don't accept you, they're not worth having as friends in the first place," Daniel finished.

"Okay," Harriet agreed and took a deep breath.

"You're worried about Dora, too, aren't you?" Remus asked.

Harriet felt her heart jump in her throat and she gave him a surprised look.

Remus chuckled. "I taught Dora for a year as well, Harriet. I know her quite well too. She's not terribly discrete about it."

"Oh… I… didn't notice until this summer," Harriet admitted.

"Well that's okay," Daniel said smiling. "Again, you have almost no experience at this. How can you expect to see something that you're not even looking for? "

"Good point," Harriet muttered.

Remus chuckled. "I wouldn't worry about Dora, either, Harriet. And I'd keep in mind that Dora is probably just as confused about life and love as you are."

"Really?" Harriet asked.

"Really," Remus continued. "While you try and pull in to protect yourself, I think Dora is inclined to do the opposite. She wears her confidence like a shield instead. While you, and most people, seek validation by trying to conform to the world you live in, Dora… well… Dora seeks validation by—well—more or less forcing people to deal with who she is."

"I see… that makes sense," Harriet thought.

"Now, how about we focus on relaxing and go out and have some lunch and drink in the joy of friendship before the match?" Daniel suggested.

Harriet finally smiled. They headed back outside but Daniel and Remus both paused on the threshold. Harriet peeked between them. Another man was standing with the group who Harriet recognized. He had been in Professor Dumbledore's office the night Aurochius and his crew had arrived. His name was Barty Crouch, and he was also Percy's boss.

Crouch caught sight of Remus and Daniel and there was an awkward silence. His gaze upon Daniel was particularly venomous. Daniel returned it unabashedly.

"Ludo, we need to meet the Bulgarians, you know," Crouch said, curtly. He shoved a cup of undrunk tea back into Percy's hands. "Thank you for the tea, Weatherby."

Bagman swigged down the last of his tea and got to his feet. "See you all later!" he said cheerfully. "You kids will all be in the top box with me! I'll be commentating!"

Both Bagman and Crouch disapparated.

"Well, that was an unpleasant surprise," Daniel muttered.

Harriet looked up at him.

"Barty Crouch," Daniel glowered, working his jaw, irritably. "He's the one who sent Sirius to Azkaban without a trial."


	8. The Quidditch World Cup

**Chapter 8**

**The Quidditch World Cup**

* * *

><p>"It is always easier to head into danger when one has an objective. It was always like that in the war. The moment you don't have a plan, that's when the panic sets in."<p>

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

* * *

><p>In spite of the unpleasant revelation about Crouch, Harriet couldn't help smiling as the afternoon wore on. There was simply too much to be excited about. They played fetch with Max (though Max seemed more interested in getting as much petting and attention from everyone that he could), and had deep conversations about how the match was going to turn out. Dora was espousing passionately on the talents of Krum, but no one else seemed to share her confidence of a Bulgarian victory.<p>

Ronnie wasn't really joining in. She'd never been as big on Quidditch as the rest, preferring the muggle sport of football. She was instead talking with Remus although Harriet couldn't hear what they discussed. Ronnie was giving Remus a slightly sceptical look, but Remus was smiling at her kindly, in much the same expression he'd worn when talking to Harriet in the tent.

"Look, souvenirs," Scott suddenly said excitedly.

Sure enough, there was a wave of souvenir venders Apparating up and down the thoroughfare which went right past their tents. There were shining rosettes in each of the teams' colours that squealed the names of the teams' players in high-pitched voices. There were hats in shamrock green for Ireland and scarves in the colours of the Bulgarian flag. There were tiny models of Firebolts that really flew. There were also little moving models of the players. Ronnie was looking at the figurines of Krum with interest, though was stealing glances at Dora the whole time before buying one and pocketing it as discretely as she could.

Harriet spotted the best of all, however. A few carts down was a rack of brass binoculars covered in assortments of dials and nobs.

"Omnioculars," the vendor said eagerly. "Zoom in and out of course, but can also replay action, play action in slow motion, and do play by play breakdowns. A bargain, ten galleons each!"

Scott bought a pair for himself and Kieran. Dora bought one for herself. Marcus already had a pair from the previous matches, which didn't please the vendor, especially when Ronnie moaned about not having any more money.

Harriet smiled. "Three pair!" she said, which cheered the vendor up greatly.

"No, that's okay," Ronnie said. She was always sensitive about the subject of money.

"Well, this'll be your Christmas present then," Harriet said smiling. "Better?"

Ronnie grinned taking the omnioculars from Harriet. "Better."

They returned to the tents, their moneybags lightened considerably, when a deep, booming gong rang somewhere in the distance. At the same time, green and red lanterns illuminated themselves in the trees, lighting the path through the woods to the stadium.

"It's time!" Mr Weasley said hopping to his feet again. "Let's go!"

Mr Weasley led the way. They could hear the sound of thousands of people on all sides of them walking and chatting. The excitement was so infectious that Harriet couldn't help but grin. After another twenty minutes, they finally emerged upon the clearing with the stadium.

Harriet gasped. The stadium was enormous and shone bright gold. It was the biggest building Harriet had ever seen in her life.

Marcus gave a little laugh. "Lemme guess, Flamel family donation?" he said nudging Dora's arm.

Dora smiled. "Yep. How do you think we got tickets for the rest of us to be in the box?"

Marcus smiled. "Wicked."

Dora looked rather flattered.

They met up with Kieran's parents and Ginny. Ginny seemed a bit sad that she got to go to the top box while her friend Luna had to go to a lower seat, but she came all the same.

Harriet looked around confused. "Where are Scott's parents?"

"They're back home with the girls," Scott explained.

"Couldn't they come too?"

"Well, not exactly," Scott said. "The Ministry still thinks it's not safe enough for them to go around in public with Kinney on the loose… so my parents stayed home with them instead."

Finally, they made it to the entrance. It was slow moving getting through the doors. Teams of Ministry wizards were inspecting everyone entering the stadium. They were waving golden rods up and down everyone going through the line. Harriet recognized the rods. The watch-wizard at the Ministry of Magic had used one when they had gone to give their testimonies to the Wizengamot.

"Prime seats!" said the Ministry witch who took their tickets at the entrance. "Top box! Straight upstairs you lot, as high as you can go. Enjoy!"

The families filed up the stairs. It was packed and slow going at first, but the higher they got the thinner the crowd on the stairs became. Harriet had the strong desire to run the rest of the way. She did feel disappointment when Daniel, Remus and Kieran's parents broke off to head to their lower seats. It seemed only Mr Weasley and Dora's parents were accompanying them to the top box.

Finally, they arrived. The top box was full of purple and gold chairs. Looking to either side, Harriet realized they were located halfway between the two sets of goalposts. Harriet hurried to the edge and leaned over, gasping in amazement at the sight. The stadium was already almost full, a moving mass of changing colours as the witches and wizards took their seats. The pitch looked to be made of green velvet from this height. Directly across from them, a large billboard was flashing advertisements just like at Muggle sporting events.

_The Bluebottle: A Broom for All the Family – safe, reliable, and with In-built Anti-Buglar buzzer_

_Mrs Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover: No Pain, No Stain!_

_Gladrags Wizardwear – London, Paris, Hogsmeade…_

Harriet grinned and looked around the box. It was almost empty still, with one exception. There was a house-elf sitting in the seat almost directly behind Harriet. Unlike Dobby, this house-elf wasn't wearing normal clothes, and instead wore a tea-towel it had fashioned into a toga. The mark of a house-elf that had not been freed. It was sitting and covering its eyes, but between its hands Harriet could see a nose the size and shape of a tomato.

"Oh, hello there," Harriet said cheerfully.

The little elf lifted one of its hands just enough to reveal it also had large eyes like Dobby's, although this elf's were brown.

"H-hello, Miss," the little elf said. Its voice was even squeakier than Dobby's had been. Harriet deduced that this one just might be a girl.

"What's your name?" Harriet asked. The rest of her friends turned now looking at the new elf with interest.

"W-Winky, Miss, Winky the house-elf," Winky replied, covering her eyes once more. Harriet found this odd. The box wasn't very brightly lit yet.

"Are you alright?" Ginny asked. Clearly she'd noted the same thing.

"Oh yes, young Miss, Winky is fine. Winky does not like heights at all, Miss."

"Then why are you here in the top box?" Kieran asked.

"Master sent Winky to save him a seat. My master is very busy at the moment."

"Winky?" Dora asked, thinking hard as if she'd heard that name before. "Ohhhhhh, I know you. You're Crouch's elf, aren't you?"

"Ohhhh, right," Scott said cottoning on.

"Oh, yes Miss," Winky replied.

"How'd you know that?" Ronnie asked.

"Crouch sometimes sends her to deliver important mail that's too sensitive to be sent by owls," Scott explained.

"And you is Master McIntyre who is now master of Dobby," Winky said.

"Uh, well no we're not his masters," Scott said. "We don't own him, he works for us."

Winky blinked and actually let her hands fall. She gave Scott such a look of bemusement that Scott might as well have told her that he liked to fly on brooms upside down wearing a pair of underwear on his head with two pencils up his nose.

"That's a bit of a foreign concept to most house-elves," Scott explained to the rest in an undertone. "Trust me, we love Dobby, but by house-elf standards he's a bit of an outlier."

"You mean you is paying Dobby for his work, sir?" Winky asked, scandalized.

"Well, yeah," Scott admitted.

Winky tutted shaking her head. "Poor Dobby; that is no life for a house-elf, sir. No pride in his work for that! Being _paid_," Winky spat, as if this was the most distasteful thing imaginable. "Not like Miss Dora and her family's elves."

Dora suddenly looked awkward as Hermione gave her a hard look.

"What, and he'd have been better off with the Malfoys being told to shut his hands in oven doors all the time just for the fun of it?" Harriet snapped. She didn't know what was making her so irritable with the elf. Aside from the fact that even if Dobby hadn't done her many favours during his time with the Malfoys, he certainly hadn't deserved what they had put him through.

Winky simply scowled at Harriet. "And you is Harriet Potter, Miss. You is causing all sorts of troubles for my master, Miss!"

"Trouble?" Harriet asked, quite taken aback.

Winky suddenly looked horrified. "Winky should say no more, Miss! Winky has said too much already. Please do not talk to Winky anymore, Miss."

Winky covered her eyes once more and fell silent. Harriet and her friends all gave each other very confused looks and slowly turned back around.

"Well, that was different," Ronnie muttered.

"And I thought Dobby was weird," Harriet said.

"Well, he is," Dora whispered. "That's what most house-elves are like."

"They're bred to be," Scott explained. "No one knows when exactly they started, but most house-elves are completely subservient to their owners like that."

"Honestly," Dora said. "Snickers would probably cut out his own lungs to give you if you asked…"

"That's horrible!" Hermione spluttered.

"Oh like I actually would!" Dora snapped back, offended.

Scott sighed. "But it's really hard to undo after so long. And with magical attitudes what they are…"

"So most families like ours just treat them the best we can. I mean… he's not exactly great, but from all I can tell Crouch is really nice to Winky."

Harriet distracted herself by looking around the box some more. It was then she noticed that it wasn't just them and Winky anymore. A small group of three people were sitting in the very back row. Two were wearing black robes and had their hoods up. The third, sitting right in the middle, was wearing robes of an iridescent blue. Harriet got the distinct impression that the other two in black were bodyguards.

Harriet squinted at the man. She was having a hard time telling which was whiter; his hair, or his skin. His eyes were a dazzling blue as he looked over the grounds with an imperious look. Harriet tilted her head. It wasn't just his odd skin that caught her attention. There was something off about his face, but she just couldn't quite put her finger on what.

Harriet's attention was torn away by some commotion from the entrance to the box. Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic of Britain had arrived. He was talking with a small contingent of people and waving his arms animatedly as if miming as he spoke to another man dressed in immaculate red robes. Harriet took this to be the Bulgarian Minister for Magic, who by the looks of it did not speak English very well.

Fudge quickly moved over to Harriet and smiled. "Ah, and here is one of our great national treasures, Minister," Fudge said. Harriet went very pink. "Harriet Potter. The girl who vanquished _You-Know-Who_."

The minister spotted Harriet's scar and comprehension swept across his face. He leaned over and chatted in another language with the woman to his left.

"Well, that was easy enough. Harriet, this is Minister Oblansk, er, Obalonsk? The Minister for Magic for Bulgaria, and his guest, Minister Grigescu, the Minister for Magic for Romania. Ah! And here's Lucius at last."

Harriet felt her heart jump unpleasantly. Moving towards the empty seats behind Mr Weasley and Mr and Mrs Flamel, came Dobby's old owners, the Malfoy family. Harriet, was revisited with the unpleasant memories of hiding from Mr Malfoy and Draco in the cupboard at Borgin and Burke's two summers ago, as she looked up at the blonde haired man who Draco so resembled. Draco's mother was also blonde, and Harriet supposed she would have been quite lovely, if not for the fact she bore an expression suggesting there was a foul smell in the air.

"Ah, Fudge," Mr Malfoy said holding out a hand to the Minister. "How are you? I don't believe my wife, Narcissa, and son, Draco, have had the pleasure of meeting you, yet?"

"How do you do, how do you do," Fudge said cheerfully. "And might I introduce you to Ministers Obelisk and Grigesky of Bulgaria and Romania."

Both Ministers gave Fudge very cool looks. Dora however snorted a derisive laugh.

"Let's see, who else? Ah, I daresay you know Arthur Weasley and of course the Flamels."

This triggered a very awkward moment as Mr Flamel and Mr Malfoy exchanged very cold looks. As far as Harriet knew, the very last time that Mr Malfoy had met with Mr Weasley and the Flamels, Mr Flamel had given Mr Malfoy a bloody-nose.

Mr Malfoy held his tongue however and instead looked along the row. His eyes lingered on Hermione and Marcus and a cold sneer flashed across his face, but it was gone in an instant once his eyes fell on Harriet. He smiled again as he saw her, and while it wasn't a sneer, it gave Harriet a chill all the same.

"Ah, Miss Potter," Mr Malfoy said. "I believe you are acquainted with my son, Draco?" Mr Malfoy asked, putting a hand on Draco's shoulder and bringing him to the forefront. Judging by the look on Draco's face, he wanted to be anywhere else in the entire world except being put on display at that very moment.

"Y-yes?" Harriet said, not knowing what else to say.

"Doesn't Miss Potter look nice, Draco?" Mr Malfoy asked.

Harriet raised an eyebrow. All she was wearing at the moment was a pair of cut-off jean shorts, a tee-shirt and trainers.

"Yes," Draco said. His voice sounded very forced. "You look nice, Harriet."

"Um, thanks," Harriet said, though she didn't feel very appreciative. Draco hadn't even looked at her. Then again, she wouldn't have felt very appreciative even if he had.

"Why don't you sit with Miss Potter and her friends to enjoy the match?" Mr Malfoy suggested.

Draco didn't say anything in response. Instead he gave his mother the slightest of glances. Harriet saw his mother give him the faintest of nods. Draco sighed and moved towards them. Harriet was grateful that she was sitting near the middle of the group. However, Draco seemed a little relieved as he moved to the end and sat at the end farthest from his parents, next to Marcus and Kieran. Mr Malfoy looked irritable, as though he was going to say something, but Mrs Malfoy put a hand on his arm and he simply glowered and sat down instead.

"What's that about?" Hermione whispered.

Harriet knew full well what that was about. She'd never forget Lucius Malfoy telling Draco that he needed to be "overly fond" of Harriet.

"I'll tell you later," Harriet said as more people started streaming into the box. She noted two other teens around their age enter the box as well, though she didn't recognize them. The odd thing was they seemed to be wearing uniforms which Harriet found strange given that it was summer. Unfortunately, they sat near the rear of the box, near the mysterious trio from earlier. Neither of the teens looked that thrilled about the seating arrangement.

Finally, Ludo Bagman himself came bounding into the top box. His face was shining with excitement. "Everybody ready? Minister, ready to go?"

"Ready when you are, Ludo," Fudge said, shifting comfortably in his chair, which was the largest and cushiest.

Bagman beamed as he whipped out his wand and pointed it to his throat. "_Sonorus_," he said. Instantly, his voice boomed so loud he was easily heard over the dull roar of the crowds below.

"Ladies and gentleman! Welcome! Welcome to the four-hundred twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"

The crowd below doubled the volume of its cheers at once. The crowds were a sea of little flapping Bulgarian and Irish flags, creating a cacophony of discordant national anthems for the two teams. Across from the top box, the billboard that was now displaying an advertisement for Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans wiped itself clean and now read:

_BULGARIA: ZERO_

_IRELAND: ZERO_

"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce the Bulgarian Team Mascots!"

"Mascots?" Ginny asked over the road of the Bulgarian supporters.

"Oh yes," Mr Weasley replied. "Teams traditionally bring creatures from their homes to put on shows. I wonder what the Bulgarians—ahhhhh, _Veela_."

"Oh no, not again," Marcus muttered and quickly stuffed his fingers in his ears.

Harriet puzzled at him but quickly turned her attention to the pitch. The Veela had arrived. A hundred of them, walking so gracefully they appeared to be gliding. Harriet was mesmerized. They were women. The most beautiful women that Harriet had ever seen, though they couldn't be human. Their hair seemed to be blowing around as if in a breeze, though there didn't seem to be one. They were also quite literally glowing.

The Veela began to dance. As they did, Harriet felt a pleasant sensation all over. It was like a warm hug, a soft embrace as though someone was holding her tenderly from behind, whispering gentle promises of safety, love and care into her ear. She simply kept watching, smiling dazedly. She turned and watched with disconnected amusement as Fred, George, Kieran, Scott, Draco, Ronnie, and Dora all slowly rose to their feet.

"What _are_ you all doing?" Hermione asked, her voice breaking Harriet from her stupor.

Harriet looked around. Kieran was trying to swing his bad leg over the edge of the box. Scott looked as though he was getting ready to dive off a springboard. Fred and George were fighting each other. Dora and Ronnie were just staring down at the Veela, who had finally stopped dancing, both breathing heavily. Draco was ripping his Irish shamrock hat to pieces.

Harriet blinked. Hermione had not seemed to be affected at all by the Veela as she tutted and reached over, pulling both Kieran and Scott back into their seats. Dora and Ronnie both seemed to rouse themselves at the same time and trading sheepish grins before sitting back down again.

Down below, the crowd began to roar again, angrily. They did not want the Veela to go. To Harriet's great surprise, Mr Weasley actually reached over and nudged Draco's shoulder. Draco paused in destroying his Ireland hat and looked around in bemusement.

"You'll be wanting that, once Ireland have had their say," Mr Weasley said, kindly.

Draco stared back at Mr Weasley, as though no one had ever really spoken that kindly to him before in his life. Mr Malfoy looked outraged that Mr Weasley had even touched his son but once again Mrs Malfoy put a hand on his arm and Mr Malfoy simply scowled and resumed watching the pitch.

"And now!" roared Bagman, "kindly put your wands in the air for the Irish National Team Mascots!"

Harriet gaped as what looked like a giant green and gold comet came hurtling into the stadium. It circled the stadium one before splitting in two. A great rainbow shot between the two circling lights, rotating round and round. The rainbow vanished and the orbs reconnected, now turning into a great shamrock. It flew through the air and passed low over the crowd. It seemed to be raining gold, and sure enough as it passed over them, a shower of golden coins rained down on everyone's heads.

Ronnie was leaping with excitement as she snatched up as much of the coins as she could get her hands on. Harriet however was still watching the shamrock. As it passed, she noted that it was actually made up of what had to be thousands of tiny men, no more than a foot tall. All of them we wearing green jackets with red waistcoats, and carrying tiny golden lanterns.

"Leprechauns!" Mr Weasley exclaimed excitedly.

Down below, the crowd that had once been cheering the Veela were now scrambling around to collect as many gold coins as they could. Even Ronnie stuffed a handful into Harriet's hands as repayment for the omnioculars. Finally, the great shamrock disintegrated as the leprechauns settled onto the pitch opposite the Veela.

"And now, ladies and gentleman, kindly welcome the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team!"

Seven scarlet players shot onto the pitch one after the other. As they did, Bagman shouted each of their names.

"Dimitrov! Ivanova! Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand _Krum!_"

"There he is! There he is!" Dora gasped bouncing up and down excitedly, watching through her omnioculars.

Now Harriet could finally get the full measure of Krum. He looked much older than eighteen, with his hooked nose and thick eyebrows. What she noticed most however, was the fact that he was in fact a very good flyer as he skimmed the crowd over the Bulgarian supporters so closely that Harriet was amazed he didn't clip anyone with his toes.

"And now, please greet the Irish National Quidditch Team!" Bagman's voice boomed. "Presenting, Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Annnnnnnnnd Lynch!"

The green blurs that were the Irish players almost made the Bulgarians look like they were standing still. Harriet spun the little dial on the omnioculars that slowed down play. Sure enough, on each of the Irish players' brooms was the golden inlay that read _Firebolt_.

"You know, I'd say the Irish are going to win now," Kieran said. "See how the Irish fly as a team. I mean even Lynch is flying with the rest of the team."

"Since when do you know anything about Quidditch, O'Brien?" Malfoy asked, coldly.

"Oh get stuffed," Ronnie grumbled.

"And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!"

Down the row, Marcus and Draco both moaned.

"Mostafa, he refed that awful Netherlands/Germany match," Malfoy complained.

"You saw that one too?" Marcus asked.

"Yeah, you?" Malfoy replied.

"Yeah…"

"Wait, did you two just agree on something?" Dora asked, a mix of amazement and amusement on her face.

Malfoy and Marcus both fell silent and scowled at the pitch. Harriet felt her lips give the faintest twitches of amusement before she returned her attention to the match. Mostafa was wearing bright gold robes, and carrying the box of Quidditch balls under one arm, and his broom in the other. He set the crate down, mounted his broom, and kicked the crate open. At once, the Quaffle, two Bludgers, and the tiny Golden Snitch shot into the air. Mostafa kicked off after them and as he did he gave a sharp blast on his whistle.

"And they're off!" Bagman cried. "And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!"

Harriet's mouth fell open. She had never seen Quidditch played like this before. The Quaffle was moving so fast that Bagman only had time to say the players' names as they caught it. The Bulgarians certainly weren't slouches, but the Irish in particular were incredible. Harriet spun the slow dial back down and hit the 'play by play' button. Glittering purple letters flashed across the lenses, identifying the manoeuvres being shown.

The title "_Hawkshead Attacking Formation"_ flashed on the screen as the three Irish chasers bore down on the Bulgarians. Troy was in the centre, followed closely by Mullet and Moran. Then came the words "_Polskoff Ploy"_ as Troy darted upwards. Ivanova followed but Troy dropped the Quaffle to Moran. A Bludger, hit by Volkov, succeeded in getting Moran to drop the Quaffle, which was caught by Levski—

"TROY SCORES!" Bagman shouted, even louder than before in his excitement. "Ten-Zero to Ireland!"

"Wait, what?" Harriet said. "But, Levski's got the Quaffle!"

"Harriet, you're in slow motion," Hermione pointed out.

Harriet glowered, angry with herself and spun the dial back to normal speed as the leprechauns formed a giant shamrock in the air once more to celebrate the goal.

As Harriet watched, Harriet had to admit that Kieran had a point about the way the Irish played. They were seamless in their manoeuvres, almost as though they could read each other's minds.

However, as the match wore on Bulgaria's beaters, Volkov and Vulchanov, were starting to learn how to read the Irish team's moves. Finally, they managed to scatter the oncoming Irish and Ivanova managed to catch the Quaffle and successfully put it through one of Ireland's hoops, scoring Bulgaria's first goal and making the score thirty-ten.

"Fingers in ears!" Mr Weasley shouted.

In spite of herself, Harriet did so as well. The effect of the dancing Veela was almost non-existent this time. The Veela stopped and Harriet took her fingers out of her ears and picked up her omnioculars again.

"Dimitrov! Levski! Dimitrov! Ivanova—oh, I say!"

A collective gasp passed over the crowd as the Seekers, Krum and Lynch, plummeted earthwards, passing right through the Chasers. It looked as though they were in a perfect freefall. Harriet was watching for the Snitch.

"They're going to crash!" Hermione shrieked.

She was half-right. At the very last second, his toes skimming the grass as he peeled off, Krum managed to pull out. Lynch, however, hit the ground with a resounding thud. The Irish supporters groaned in disappointment and worry.

Charlie whistled. "_The Wronski Feint_," he said. "Even I was never fool enough to try that one out."

Charlie leaned over and patted Ginny's shoulder. "He'll be alright. He just got ploughed, which was what Krum was after, of course."

Harriet watched the replay in the omnioculars as the medi-wizards tended to Lynch. Krum hadn't seen the Snitch at all. He was attempting to get Lynch to copy him and get distracted before running into the ground.

Krum was good. Incredible even. He looked weightless as he spiralled downwards with Lynch. Harriet returned the dial to normal and watched Krum. He was looking around below him, flying over a hundred feet in the air. She had to admit, it was clever, but a dirtier tactic than she would ever use. Krum was using the time Lynch was being treated to look for the Snitch.

The Irish fans cheered as Lynch remounted his broomstick and kicked off once more. Mostafa blew his whistle again and play resumed. If the Bulgarians had hoped to slow the Irish down, they were sadly mistaken. The Irish fans were heartened by Lynch's revival, and the Irish players were only spurred on to play even harder. Indeed, it almost became painful to watch as it took only fifteen minutes for Ireland to score ten more goals.

The Bulgarians were starting to get desperate. There was a penalty when the Bulgarian keeper rammed the Irish chaser Mullet, using his elbow. After Mostafa blew his whistle, the leprechauns flew up to form "HA HA HA!" in the air. The Veela began to dance again in retaliation. Prepared for it now, Harriet was able to fight off the soporific effect of the Veela's dance.

She and Hermione shared body shaking laughter as Mostafa flew down and landed before the Veela, strutting about in front of them and flexing his muscles (or lack thereof).

"Now we can't have that!" Bagman said, laughing heartily. "Someone slap the referee."

One of the medi-wizards, his fingers stuffed in his ears, ran out onto the pitch and kicked Mostafa hard on the shin. Mostafa was brought to his senses as he hopped up and down on one foot, clutching his kicked shin and thanking the medi-wizard. Then he rounded on the Veela.

"Good lord!" Bagman boomed. "It looks as though Mostafa is trying to send off the Bulgarian Team Mascots! Never seen the like of that before! This is going to get nasty!"

It did. Volkov and Vulchanov, the Bulgarian Beaters, flew down and started arguing furiously with Mostafa and waving their hands angrily at the leprechauns who had now formed "HEE HEE HEE." Mostafa wasn't swayed, and pointed into the air, indicating that the two players should get flying again. When they didn't, he gave two more blasts on his whistle.

"Two more penalties to Ireland!" Bagman roared. "There goes Volkov and Vulchanov. Troy's taken the first penalty."

The play had now become more ferocious than ever. The Bulgarians were getting more desperate still, especially when Dimitrov drew another foul by deliberately flying into Moran and nearly knocking her off her broom.

In response, the leprechauns rose into the air and formed a giant hand giving the Bulgarians the two-fingered salute. When the Veela didn't get the gesture, the hand resorted to just holding up the middle-finger instead.

That one the Veela got.

Harriet's eyes widened in shock at what happened next. The Veela didn't look like women anymore. Instead, long, scaly wings burst from their backs and their faces turned into the heads of vultures and they were throwing handfuls of fire at the leprechauns.

"And that's why you should never go for looks alone," Mr Weasley shouted over the cacophony of noise coming from the pitch.

Ministry wizards had poured onto the pitch in an attempt to separate the Veela and the leprechauns. Harriet had returned her attention to the match going on above. The Quaffle was nothing more than a red streak as it shot between the players. Ireland scored again when one of the Irish beaters managed to hit a Bludger at Krum.

Krum, who had just dodged another ball of fire from one of his team's own mascots, didn't see it coming. It hit him full in the face. Harriet and most of the crowd, even the Irish, groaned. Krum's nose looked broken and blood was pouring down over his lips, chin, and robes. There was a roar of calls for timeout, but Mostafa wasn't paying attention. Instead, he was too busy trying to put out the tail of his broom which had been set on fire by one of the Veela.

Just then, Harriet caught a streak of green in the corner of her eye and looked to see the Irish Seeker, Lynch, diving. It was no feint this time, Lynch was after the Snitch.

Below, the Irish supporters had caught on and were cheering Lynch on. Somehow, despite the blood, Krum was on Lynch's tail. Now the two were level as they once more hurtled straight at the ground.

"Oh no," Harriet said and sure enough, with another sickening thud, Lynch hit the ground. She couldn't hear the thud over the roar of noise.

"Where's the Snitch?" Charlie shouted, looking around. "Did it get away?"

"No!" Harriet shouted. "Krum got it! It's over!"

Krum was circling the pitch, his fist holding the Golden Snitch stuck high in the air over his head. Across from them, the scoreboard now read:

_BULGARIA: ONE HUNDRED SIXTY_

_IRELAND: ONE HUNDRED SEVENTY_

The crowd didn't seem to realize what had happened at first. Then, like the starting of a jumbo jet, the roar began.

"IRELAND WINS!" Bagman bellowed. The noise was so loud that even he was difficult to hear now. "KRUM GETS THE SNITCH – BUT IRELAND WINS! Good lord! I don't know if anyone was expecting that!"

"He was so brave," Hermione said. She was looking down at Krum who was finally letting the medi-wizards tend to his nose. On the sidelines, the Veela had returned to their usual forms, looking dejected and forlorn. But beautifully so.

"Vell, ve fought bravely," said a gloomy voice from nearby.

"You can speak English!" Fudge said.

Harriet turned. The Bulgarian and Romanian ministers were giving Fudge very amused looks.

"Yes, ve can," said the Romanian Minister.

"But you were making me mime everything all day!"

"Vell, it vas very funny," admitted the Bulgarian minister. He didn't look at all sorry.

Harriet was distracted again as the Quidditch World Cup trophy itself was brought into the top box. It was shortly followed by the Bulgarian team. Krum was the last into the box. His hooked nose had been returned to normal, but he had two black eyes and his robes were still soaked in blood. Harriet also noted that he still had the Snitch wriggling in his hand.

Next came the Irish. Lynch looked far the worse for wear than Krum. He was being supported by Moran and Connolly and was smiling vacantly as if dazed. The stadium erupted in applause again and the Irish team quickly mounted their brooms, taking off for another lap of honour. Lynch was riding on the back of Connolly's broom, grinning stupidly.

"_Quietus_," Bagman said, returning his voice to normal volume. "They'll be talking about this one for years. Really unexpected twist, that."

His voice had gone quite hoarse. He turned around smiling but looked taken aback as he found himself face to face with Fred and George, who each had their hands outstretched and expected.

"Oh yes… I owe you… how much?"

* * *

><p>"Girls! Girls! Wake up! This is urgent!"<p>

Harriet grunted. "S'goin' on?" she asked rubbing her eyes.

As she woke, she became aware of odd noises. There wasn't singing anymore. Instead, Harriet heard the terrible sound of screaming and people running.

Harriet slid out of bed and reached for her clothes.

"No, Harriet! No time! Just grab your jacket and get outside, now!"

Harriet, Ronnie, Hermione, Dora, and Ginny all looked at each other and did as told. The sight that greeted them as they got outside was horrible. People were fleeing madly into the woods. Harriet looked to see what they were fleeing from. She couldn't make it out at first. There were flashes of light and loud bangs, intermixed with the screams and what sounded like drunken laughter.

Finally, a flash of bright green light illuminated the scene. There was another crowd of wizards, all holding their wands in the air, tightly packed together, and slowly marching across the field. Harriet couldn't make out any faces, then realized they were all wearing masks and hoods. High above them, four figures were spinning and flipping around, being contorted into grotesque shapes. They looked like reverse marionettes, with the puppeteers beneath and the puppets above.

As the crowd moved, more and more wizards were joining them. The marchers were blasting tents out of the way as they went, and setting others on fire. As they passed one of the burning tents, Harriet finally could make out the floating figures. Harriet recognized one as Mr Roberts and she felt a wave of horrified disgust pass over her. The other three looked to be his wife and children. One of the matchers was making Mrs Roberts' nightdress fly up over her head. Another was making the smallest Roberts child spin like a top.

"Oh Merlin," Dora said, aghast.

"That's sick," Ronnie said. "That's really sick!"

At that moment, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, and Marcus all came stumbling out of the boys' tent. Kieran and Scott had gone back to their families' tents. Bill, Charlie, and Percy had dressed, and their wands were drawn.

"We're going to help the Ministry!" Mr Weasley said. "You all get into the woods! Stay hidden and _stay together!_"

The four adults ran off in the direction of the marchers. Fred grabbed hold of Ginny's hand and they all turned as one and ran into the woods. It was a total panic. The lanterns that had lit the path were out. They were jostled around by people rushing past them. Children were crying.

It was then that Harriet noticed it. They had gotten separated from Fred, George, and Ginny. She looked around, worrying. Where had they gone? And what about Kieran and Scott? Had they gotten away too?

"What's going on?" Hermione said looking around.

"I dunno but screw this underage magic shit," Dora said and drew her wand. "_Lumos_!"

"Language, Flamel," said an unctuous voice from nearby.

They spun around. Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy were standing nearby. Zabini was leaning against a tree, his arms folded, smiling at them wickedly. Draco wasn't looking at them at all. He was looking out on the clearing blankly.

"What the hell do you two want?" Dora asked, her wand still pointed at the two.

"You'll want to watch that tongue, Flamel," Zabini said. "It'll get you into trouble."

"Get Granger out of here," Draco said abruptly. "They're coming this way."

"Yeah, they are after _Muggles_ after all," Zabini sneered.

Harriet furrowed her brow. Draco's tone hadn't matched Zabini's. It was more a warning than a taunt. Zabini however didn't seem to notice.

"Hermione's a witch!" Marcus snarled.

"Whatever," Zabini said dismissively. "You'd better keep yours down too, Van Der Lakk. If you think they can't spot a Mud—"

"Zabini," Draco said. His tone seemed sharp and Zabini looked at him quizzically.

Draco worked his jaw watching the marchers in the field. "Come on," Draco said. "We can get a better view from over there," he said pointing.

Zabini scowled but followed as Draco headed off, his shoulders hunched. The group stared after the two as they disappeared into the shadows of the trees.

"What was that about?" Marcus asked, finally lowering his wand.

"I don't know," Dora said, lowering hers as well.

"Malfoy's been weird lately… has been all year. Which… I suppose is a good thing…"

"Let's keep moving," Hermione said as the bangs got louder. Harriet supposed Zabini's taunt about the crowd being able to tell Hermione was a muggle-born had worried her.

They headed deeper into the woods and two figures stepped out into the path in front of them. "Hello?" asked a girl's voice. "Professor Howe?"

They paused. "Uh, no?" Harriet replied.

"Oh," the girl said and they stepped closer. "You lot go to Hogwarts?"

It was a boy and girl. The girl was tall and willowy, with long blonde hair, an oval face, wide blue eyes, and looked a bit older than them. The boy however looked to be about their age, and had curly, strawberry blonde hair and grey or green eyes, Harriet couldn't tell in the darkness. Harriet didn't recognize either of them at first, but then it dawned on her. They were the two other teens who had been in the top box wearing their school uniforms.

"Yeah," Marcus replied. "What about you two?"

"Rathlin," the boy replied. He held out a hand.

"Do you two know what's going on?" Dora asked.

"Professor Howe said it was former Death Eaters. He sent us in here while he went to help apprehend them."

Harriet frowned. Professor Howe had been around, had students in the top box, but hadn't come to see her? She was shaken from this slightly selfish thought by another loud bang from the camp site.

"Anyway, umm, I'm Portia, Portia Figg, and this is Gaius Fearghal."

Something about the name Figg triggered something in Harriet's mind, but she didn't have the time to really place it. Harriet and her friends all introduced themselves back. She sighed as she put up with the expected looks of recognition at her name from both.

"Well, let's get a bit further away still," Marcus said as another bang sounded off.

"We should stay here," Portia said. "Professor Howe told us not to go too far. He said he'd be back for us soon."

"Okay, good luck," Ronnie said.

"If you see two boys about our age, one with a walking stick, they're friends of ours," Harriet said.

They headed deeper into the woods. It was getting so dark now that even Dora's wand wasn't quite bright enough. They drew out the rest of their wands, except for Harriet.

"Oh no!" Harriet exclaimed. "I can't find my wand!"

"What?" Ronnie asked.

The rest all turned their wands on the ground around Harriet's feet. They spent what felt like ten minutes looking around but searching but found nothing. Harriet groaned.

"It's probably back in the tent," Hermione said.

Harriet groaned louder. "You're right, I had it in the pocket of my shorts but Mr Weasley wouldn't let us get dressed properly."

She was starting to feel very vulnerable. She'd never been without her wand. And to now be without it in a situation like this...

A rustling noise made them all spin around. As they watched, Winky the house-elf fought her way out of a clump of bushes nearby. She was moving slowly, as though something was trying to drag her backwards.

"Bad wizards!" she shouted in her squeaky little voice. "Bad, bad wizards! Winky is running! People high! High in the air! Winky must get out of the way!"

She disappeared again on the other side of the path, but Harriet could still hear her grunting and fighting against the invisible force that seemed to be holding her back.

"What was wrong with her?" Ronnie asked. "Why couldn't she run right?"

"She probably didn't ask permission to hide," Harriet said.

"Well, no, I don't think so," Dora said. "Unless Crouch told her to stay where she was… they can do most anything unless you tell them not to."

"Well, even then, they can break the rules, though they have to punish themselves," Harriet said.

"That's awful!" Hermione said. "How can people stand for it? And your family has three!"

"I told you Hermione, it's not that simple!" Dora retorted. "And you really think I or anyone else in my family would ever tell them to hurt themselves or anything like that?"

Hermione didn't respond, but she didn't look happy either. There were more bangs and light and another bout of screams. Marcus gave Hermione a nervous look.

"Uh, let's just keep moving," he said.

"Hallo?" asked an irritable voice. "Who is that?"

The teens looked around. A tall man was walking towards them. He had white hair and a goatee. He was giving them a very disapproving look.

"What are you children doing all the way out here? Why are there no adults with you?"

"Uh… we were running from the riot, sir?" Marcus replied.

The man seemed rather unpleasant. His tone was cold and condescending. "Hogwarts students, are you?" he asked.

They nodded.

"Typical, running about scared like this. I would not put up with this from my own students."

"Well those are Death Eaters and some of us are Muggle-borns," Marcus snapped. "And that's Harriet Potter!"

Karkaroff's eyes widened as he looked down at Harriet. He curled his goatee, looking at her thoughtfully. "Harriet Potter, you say? Yes, we must get you to safety at once. Well, come, follow me."

Harriet and the rest all gave each other quizzical looks but followed.

"Who is this clown?" Dora asked under her breath.

"He's Igor Karkaroff, headmaster of Durmstrang," Hermione replied. She was giving Karkaroff's back a very cold look.

They kept following Karkaroff. Harriet was starting to get suspicious. Karkaroff had made a show of acting brave and in charge, but she couldn't help but notice the way that he kept stealing glances back at the sounds of the riot. And every time he did, he glanced down at Harriet, thoughtfully.

"I say we ditch him," Dora whispered shrewdly. "I don't like the look of him…"

"Me either," Harriet agreed.

She didn't like the looks that Karkaroff was giving her at all. He wasn't looking at her as though he was wanting to do anything to her himself. The feeling that look gave her was more as though she was a piece of property… something trade-able. She glanced back at the campsite and shivered. She wished she had her wand with her more than ever.

Finally, they reached an isolated clearing. They could barely hear the sounds of the riot now.

"We will probably be safe here," Karkaroff said. "We will hear anyone coming a mile off—"

"Who's that?!"

Everyone jumped. Ludo Bagman had stepped out from behind a tree nearby. He'd lost all his boyish charm from before, Harriet noted. He now appeared very pale and strained. He didn't seem fearful, more stressed and worried, even irritable that they had intruded.

"What are you lot doing all the way out here alone?"

"Mister Bagman!" Karkaroff exclaimed. "What are _you_ doing all the way out here when there is a riot going on, on your Ministry's watch?! Is this how the ministry of this country behaves? Allowing such chaos to occur!"

"What?!" Bagman exclaimed.

"Yes, you fool! On the campsite," Karkaroff went on. "Death Eaters are running amok!"

"DAMN THEM!" Bagman swore and Disapparated at once with a loud crack.

"Not exactly on top of things, is he," Hermione observed.

"No… he was a great Beater though," Ronnie said.

"Mr Bagman?" called another voice.

"How many people are out here this far?!" Karkaroff cried.

"Who's that?" asked the new voice. "That's not you Mr Bagman, is it?"

Another figure stepped into the clearing. It was a young man wearing Auror robes. Ronnie furrowed her brow and tilted her head looking at the man.

"No you imbecile, do I sound like a fool like Ludo Bagman," Karkaroff snapped. "And who are you?"

The Auror looked taken aback at Karkaroff's rudeness, but recovered himself. "Name's Davidson, sir. Joshua Davidson. I'm from the Auror office. I was sent to find Mr Bagman when the riot broke out. You lot haven't seen him, have you?"

"Why yes we have," Karkaroff grumbled. "He was hiding out here like a coward and he Disapparated the moment we informed him of the riot. He left not even a minute ago."

Joshua's face fell. He suddenly looked as though he was holding back anger. "Dammit!" he spat. "Oh of course, I see, spend a half hour blundering around the damn woods looking for him and he's gone back. First the riot and now this!"

Even Karkaroff was looking at Joshua with raised eyebrows. Joshua took a deep breath and smiled pleasantly once more. "Sorry about that. I'm sure you understand my frustration. It's a bit like trying to find a needle in a haystack out here only to find out once you found the damn thing it vanished on you and you have to start all over again."

"And what of my frustration, young man!" Karkaroff boomed. "I come all the way here to watch my star pupil perform, only to witness terribly biased judging in the match and now this riot has broken out and I cannot find Viktor anywhere and I find one of your ministry's top men just hiding out here in the woods!"

Joshua was now giving Karkaroff a very appraising look.

"I'm terribly sorry, sir, I didn't get your name?"

"I am Igor Karkaroff!" Karkaroff declared. "Headmaster of Durmstrang and I demand explanations!"

Joshua gave a sigh of relief. Harriet found this reaction rather odd. Joshua's eyes then drifted over the teens. His eyes settled on Harriet's face and paused. Harriet prepared herself for the usual look of recognition and the eye-flick to her scar. But it didn't come. Instead, he seemed to recognize her and simply smiled. He glanced back and forth between Harriet and Karkaroff as though sizing them up. He seemed to settle on Karkaroff.

"Oh jeez, oh I'm so glad to see you, sir," Joshua said in a very relieved tone. "I was told to keep an eye out for important foreign guests as well. If you'll come with me, I can take you to meet with the Minister. I'm sure he'll be glad to know you're safe."

Karkaroff looked rather pleased and flattered. "Well, thank you very much—er—Auror. Lead on."

Joshua smiled. The kids started to follow.

"Oh, ummm, you lot better stay here," Joshua said.

"What? Why?" Dora asked, angrily.

"More Aurors are doing sweeps of the woods right now looking for campers. I'll let them know your coordinates. Just with such an important person as Mr Karkaroff here, I really need to get him to safety right away. Sir, right this way."

Joshua held out a hand pointing off into the darkness. Karkaroff threw his shoulders back importantly and headed off. Joshua followed, smiling pleasantly.

Harriet and the rest stared after the departing men. Their mouths were all hanging open. Had he really just taken Karkaroff and left them there?

"Is he seriously leaving us here?!" Dora asked, aghast.

"I… I don't recognize him," Ronnie finally spoke up.

Then, it happened in an instant. Just as he got to the end of the wand-light, Joshua paused. He turned and smiled back at them. However, it wasn't Joshua's face doing the smiling.

Harriet knew that face. It was a face from one of the most horrible experiences in her life. His face was round, and his skin pale. His cold eyes pierced her, not matching the smile on his lips. It was Solomon Kinney.

And just like that, he was gone, disappearing after Karkaroff into the shadows.

"The hell?" Marcus asked.

"STOP HIM!" Harriet cried out.

"What?" Dora asked.

"Kinney! That was Solomon Kinney!"

Marcus gasped. "Mr Karkaroff!" he shouted and before anyone could stop him he ran off after the men. Harriet and Hermione started after him but just as he got to the edge of the trees where the men had vanished the forest in front of him was illuminated by a bright burst of greenlight and a roaring sound akin to a passing freight train. Harriet covered her eyes, and only barely registered the loud crack of someone Disapparating.

"Marcus!" Harriet could hear Hermione crying out.

Harriet blinked the blindness from her eyes, looking around. Everyone was huddled together nearby. She hurried over.

Marcus was sitting, clutching his legs tight to his chest, rocking slowly and staring blankly. Hermione was hugging him tight around the shoulders while Dora and Ronnie knelt beside him, looking on with worry.

"Dead… he's dead…" Marcus muttered.

"It's okay, you're okay," Hermione was whispering softly. Everyone was shaking.

"Killed him…" Marcus muttered. "He just… killed him…"

Harriet knelt beside Marcus too. Dora gave her a pained look.

"What the hell…?" she asked. "Death Eaters rioting… Kinney just murdered someone… what's… how… just… _why_?!"

"I don't know…" Ronnie replied. "You sure he's dead…?"

Dora rubbed her arms, still shivering as she looked in the direction Karkaroff and Kinney had gone.

"I'm not gonna check," Dora said.

"But, he could be hurt," Hermione said.

Dora shook her head. "Not if that curse is what I think it was…"

"He just fell over…" Marcus went on. Clearly he wasn't listening to anything anyone was saying. "Crumpled, just like…"

"Shhh!" Harriet hissed.

They fell silent and listened. It was hard to hear over Marcus' muttering, but it sounded as though there were more footsteps approaching. Harriet now found herself wishing that not only did she have her wand, but her invisibility cloak as well. They kept as silent as they could, aside from Marcus' muttering. The footsteps were passing them, heading in the direction that Kinney had taken Karkaroff. The footsteps were heavy and uneven.

There was a shout of surprise and the thud of someone falling. There were snarled curses and then more silence. Then, the laughter started. High, cold, maniacal laughter.

"_MORSMORDRE!_"

Ronnie gave out a cry of shock as another burst of bright green light lit the scene. This time, it shot straight up into the air, high above the treetops. Harriet gasped as she watched. The green light had formed into a giant green skull. It looked to be made of emeralds as it rose higher. As if the sight wasn't horrible enough, a long slender snake slid out of the mouth, like a horrible, writhing tongue. All around them, people began to scream louder than ever.

"Oh no, oh no oh no oh no!" Hermione was saying, her eyes wide with fear.

Next to her, Dora looked near panic.

"Oh god, we have to get out of here!" she tugged hard on Harriet's arm. "We have to get _you_ out of here now!"

"What?" Harriet asked. "What is it?"

Hermione turned a horrified gaze on Harriet. "Harriet! That's the Dark Mark! That's _You-Know-Who_'s sign!"


End file.
